


Little Boy Lost

by GingerS



Series: The adventures of Johnny Gage before Station 51 [5]
Category: Emergency!
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerS/pseuds/GingerS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tragedy stole his childhood and took him from one bad situation to another until he found his calling. How Johnny Gage became "The Boot".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Emergency! is owned by Universal Studios and Mark VII. This is a story of fiction based on their show and its wonderful characters.

The long, dimly lit, narrow room stretched out before him. Perfectly made beds lined the walls on either side spread with plain brown blankets. The one window at the end was heavily draped with drab fabric blocking out any hope of sunshine as well as the bars on the outside. There were no pictures on the grayish walls or brightly colored decorations like he had in his room back home. He shuddered. There was no "back home" anymore. That life disappeared along with the last breaths his parents took. That world shattered with the glass from the family car as it careened down the embankment into the thick brush and beyond to the hidden drop off.

He felt a nudge in the middle of his back startling him from the horrors that now plagued his thoughts so often. He took a few steps further into the cold room.

"This will be your bed." The tall slender woman spoke softly to him. "You can put your clothes in here." She opened the trunk at the end of the bed, reached for the bundle he had in his arms and tugged at it. He curled his arms tighter around his few belongings. "Come on sweetheart. I know you're frightened, but this is the way it has to be. Your parents are gone and the authorities haven't found anyone to claim you. This is your home for now. We need to put your things away." She pried his small thin fingers away from the hold they had on his things. He didn't have much, but they were his. He didn't want anyone to take that away from him too. She kept at it until she worked his hands free. She gently pulled the bundle from his grasp and dropped it into the trunk. They could sort them and fold them later. The dark haired boy looked so broken and lost. "Come here sweetie." She pulled him into her embrace and held him there as silent tears slid down his face. She could feel the tremble in his thin frame.

When he had cried out his anguish she helped him take off his jacket and shoes tucking them safely into his foot locker. Exhausted, he crawled into the bed and curled himself as small as he could, hugging his legs and tucking his head to his knees. The woman stood and pulled the covers over the boy. "You just rest. I'll come for you when it's time to eat." Turning from her charge she walked softly across the long room to the door and turned off the lights plunging him into the darkness that had become his world.

The boy fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

His dreams had become nightmares. Sleep no longer an escape, so the dreamless slumber afforded him some much needed rest.

Several hours later when the woman returned to wake him she found him flat on his back with his arm draped across his eyes. The threadbare sheet and thin blanket bunched around his long slender legs and his breathing still laced with sounds of a deep sleep. She knew he needed to eat, but chose not to disturb him. She would make him a sandwich for later when he woke on his own. After taking the time to disentangle him from the covers and tuck him securely into his bunk she tiptoed back to the door and pulled it to just as sad brown eyes opened to follow her as she exited the room.

He heard the click of the lock on the heavy door and pulled his blanket to his chin, once again curled into a tight ball and let the tears slide down his face dampening the pillow.

He hadn't done anything wrong. Why had they sent him here?

Officer Brewster stood outside the heavy door for a moment after closing it contemplating her decision to leave the boy asleep when she heard a soft whimper from the speaker on the wall. The boy hadn't spoken a word since his arrival. He hadn't made a sound when he cried earlier that day, so the soft whimper though it tore at her heartstrings gave her a glimmer of hope for the child.

The Sheriff had told Warden Tompkins the boy had not uttered a word since the firemen had pulled him from the wreckage that claimed his parent's lives, at least not that anyone could understand, so even a whimper seemed like music to her ears.

Watching him curl back into himself on the monitor, she decided to take special care with this young boy. Something about him was extraordinary. She sensed a kindness, a gentle spirit in this child and knew that in the harsh world in which he had been thrust those qualities could be squashed to make way for bitter resentment and hate. He didn't deserve to be here in the juvenile detention center. His only crime was being half Native American and unwanted by his people. She lifted a prayer to the heavens for him before returning to the others under her watch.

Left to their own devices for very long the fifteen boys ranging from eight to twelve from her block would find a way to anger Warden Tompkins and find themselves scrubbing the building spotless for weeks to come. She smiled at that thought. Warden Tompkins was good to the children especially these younger boys, but he felt hard work cleaning would help them learn to behave more appropriately. Officer Brewster knew better. She knew boys would be boys and no amount of cleaning would dampen their spirits.

Miraculously, when she returned to the cafeteria what she found was a room full of hungry children with their heads bowed in prayer and Warden Tompkins standing by the door smiling. Heads raised and small hands shot out grabbing forks, napkins and buttered rolls.

"How did you do that?"

He shrugged, "They want to watch 'Walt Disney Presents' after dinner. I told them it depended on their behavior."

"They love that show. It makes for a special Sunday night treat before returning to school tomorrow." She smiled.

"Where is the boy?"

Officer Brewster bowed her head and closed her eyes for a second before answering her superior. "He was still sleeping."

"He needs to eat."

"Yes, but according to the records from the hospital he has not been sleeping well either." She said softly.

"You will see that he eats later."

"Yes sir. I will see that he eats." She knew she had made the right decision to leave the boy where he was. "I will make him a sandwich."

"Maybe some buttered rolls with jelly." Warden Tompkins winked at juvenile corrections officer. "I always liked that when I was a boy." With that he walked away.

A bustling of feet and slamming of foot lockers woke the boy sending him scrambling to the head of his bed in fear. "Hey who are you?" One of the taller boys in the beds next to his asked. He covered his ears with his hands and ducked his face to his knees. "We won't hurt ya…at least not yet."

His head shot up and brown eyes darted from side to side looking for an escape. He shot off the bed and padded across the wooden floor in his socked feet stumbling with every few steps. When he righted himself with a last ditch effort to reach the door he ran headlong into Officer Brewster. "Whoa there. Where do you think you're going?" She gripped his bony shoulders to keep him from falling. He flinched and backed away from her, but never raised his eyes from the floor. "Come and meet your room mates." She motioned to the other boys that had gathered around them. Then she introduced each boy by name. "Now I know who you are, but why don't you tell them?"

He raised his eyes to hers and she saw fear in them. "It's alright. They're your friends."

He looked at the floor and did not speak. He knew they weren't his friends.

"Everyone this is John." Officer Brewster placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm told he likes to be called Johnny." One by one as expected the boys said hello and then returned to their beds to change into their night clothes. "Are you hungry?"

His stomach growled in answer.

"I'll take that as a yes." She pulled a package from her pocket. "I brought you something to eat. Shall we eat it here or would you like to come with me to the kitchen and find a glass of cold milk?"

He turned to the door and waited for her to lead the way.

"Lights out in ten minutes." She called to the oldest of her boys.

"Yes ma'am." She got in answer. "You heard her," he called to the others, "lights out in ten. You guys had better be in bed by then. And don't forget to brush your teeth." Officer Brewster laughed in earnest at the boy trying to imitate the words she usually spoke to them at bedtime. Cleanliness was next to Godliness and according to Warden Tompkins clean teeth was a big part of a man's cleaning regimen.

Johnny followed her down the long hallway staying a few feet behind her and as far as she knew never taking his eyes off his feet. How he ever knew where she walked was a mystery, but he did keep up with her. He also saw many things from beneath the long hair that hung in his face. He saw the monitors outside of the heavy locked doors they passed. He saw several people dressed in uniforms standing guard outside those same doors. He heard locks clicking and the loud noise of many lights going out at once. When she stopped at the kitchen door and opened it for him to enter he was right behind her. "Well come on." She prodded him. He entered. She flipped on the overhead lights, and moved over to the industrial sized refrigerator to get the milk. She hadn't noticed the flinch he made when she flipped the light switch.

Johnny stopped in the middle of the room and stood awaiting her instructions. He looked out of the corner of his lowered eyes and scanned the room checking things out. When Officer Brewster turned around to hand him the glass of milk he looked as if he had never moved much less surveyed his surroundings. "Let's sit over here." She pointed to a small table in the corner. Johnny shuffled over and stood by one of the two chairs waiting. When she had sat in the other chair he quietly slid his out and sat down. She placed the milk and sandwiches in front of him and he waited to be told to eat. "Go ahead sweetie." He tore into the food as though he hadn't eaten in weeks. By the looks of the frail boy, maybe he hadn't.

Over the next few days Officer Brewster and Johnny would share this special corner of the kitchen as she worked to help the boy gain his strength. He had suffered some pretty severe bruising and cracked ribs from the car crash that killed his parents. Even after a week at the facility he still hadn't spoken a word. Not even at school. Officer Brewster and his teacher at the school the children from the boy's home attended were perplexed at the boy. Medically, there had been no reason for him not to speak, but they all feared that he suffered from some type of mental anguish from the abrupt change in his life. They all hoped the condition would pass, but so far he communicated only with his eyes and in the deep brown orbs they saw loss, fear and sadness well beyond his years.

Even though he didn't speak, the other boys had taken a liking to Johnny. He was bright and creative. He could draw animals better than anyone else and helped them with their chores. When the other children at school teased him about being small or about how he looked different, they took up for him.

And he did look different. He had long dark hair that hung almost to his shoulders. His cheek bones were very distinct, his nose long and thin and his eyes a deep milk chocolate brown. His skin tone was darker than most.

One night when Warden Tompkins let the boys watch television before bed they saw a show about cowboys and Indians. "Are you an Indian?" One of the boys asked him. Johnny simply nodded and then he shook his head no. "Well which is it?" The boy asked. "Yes, or no?"

Johnny stared at the boy, but didn't know what to do. How could he explain being both? Officer Brewster answered for him. "He's both."

"How can you be both?" The boy asked her.

"When one of your parents is of Native American decent and the other is of White decent. Then you are both." That put an end to the questions. None of the boys talked much about their parents. They were all either orphaned or too hard to handle at home so it was not a subject that they often talked about.

After that Johnny seemed more relaxed…at least as relaxed as a boy could be under lockdown at a detention center.

It was as if he had been accepted. In a small way he had fit in, something that no one realized he had never experienced before. Within a few days Johnny spoke his first words since coming to the center.

"Could I have some more milk?" He asked Officer Brewster softly during one of their special late evening snacks in the kitchen.

Her head shot up in surprise, but she tried not to react too much. She didn't want to frighten the boy. "Of course you can." She got up slowly, walked over, got the milk from the refrigerator and brought it to the table.

Johnny looked up at her and a crooked smile spread across his face, "Thank you."

Officer Brewster couldn't contain her joy at Johnny's words. "Oh sweetie! You are so very welcome." She wrapped her arms around the boy and hugged him close. "You can have all the milk you want."

Johnny hugged her back. He buried his face against her and let the tears slide down his cheeks; once more remembering how comforting it had been when his mother hugged him that way.

From that day forward Johnny talked. He didn't talk a lot and when he did he didn't say much, but he did speak when needed. The other boys carried on as if nothing had changed. Johnny had become one of them in the short time he'd been there.

The days passed and turned into weeks and the weeks to months and soon a year had gone by since Johnny was brought to the center. Some of his peers had been placed in foster care or reunited with family, but being older than most families wanted to take in many of the boys were still there, and a few more had come. Johnny had grown taller and filled out a bit, but was still by far one of the smallest boys in the ward.

Being small led to being picked on by the bigger boys.

One in particular, Davey, loved to make Johnny the brunt of his jokes, and he was full of jokes and pranks. Johnny had learned early on in his stint at the center that going to the officers only resulted in both boys getting detention or extra cleaning chores, so over time he learned to "handle" things on his own.

Davey had many ideas up his sleeve, but one of his favorite things to do was to embarrass his prey. He would put dye in their toothpaste that made their lips and teeth turn blue. He would smear toothpaste on their face while they slept, or tie their ankles to their bed making them struggle to get out of it. Johnny had fallen prey to many of the pranks. Having things done while he slept taught him to be a light sleeper. When he threw his arm over his eyes at night it was as much a habit as it was a protective measure allowing him to keep watch over his roommates when they thought he was asleep.

It amazed Johnny how the guards had monitors to watch them, but never seemed to notice when pranks were being committed. It was like they had selective vision.

One night in particular Johnny lay in his bunk with his arm across his eyes. He had drifted off, but hadn't really gone to sleep when he heard soft voices. Blinking the sleep away he peered out from under his arm and could see shadows moving around the bed beside his.

"Keep it down you goofs. We don't want to wake him up."

The tell tale sound of a crumpled paper sack opening told Johnny that the boys were up to no good. He slowed his breathing and concentrated on listening the way his elders had taught him in preparing him for the hunt. 'A good hunter can hear the animals breathe.' He remembered. 'A good hunter's intentions are never known to his prey or his attacker if the animal should turn on him.'

"Hey dufus…pull the blanket down." Davey whispered to one of the other boys.

When he felt the blanket on his bed move Johnny bolted up, springing to his feet on top of the mattress and letting out a terrifying warrior cry that sent the boys scrambling away from his bunk in shock.

Davey watched as Johnny's eyes darkened into a squint filled with a rage none of the boys had ever seen. His feet were planted in a defensive pose, and he held his hands at the ready to pounce.

He continued chanting in a language none of them understood, but that sent fear racing with their blood.

To Davey it looked like every muscle in Johnny's body tensed. His eyes darted from person to person. No one moved thinking they would be the receiver of the strange boy's fury. No one wanted to tangle with the crazed Indian.

The bolted door clicked, light flooded in from the hall and the night guard moved into the room like a strange shadow until he flipped on the lights. "What's going on in here?"

Davey shoved the ropes he held beneath the blanket on his bed and sat down on top. "He just freaked out. He woke me up and scared me to death." The other boys agreed with Davey.

Johnny had gotten lost in the moment. Tremors shook is thin frame. He couldn't believe the things that had come out of his mouth. It frightened him that he had lost control like that. He still stood on his bunk lost in a haze of memories flooding his mind. Memories of the lessons he'd had as a young boy in the ways of his people, lessons about being a hunter and a warrior. When he realized that everyone was staring at him he began to shake harder. His stomach cramped and he felt the hot sensation in his throat that comes before getting sick, but he swallowed it back down. He blinked several times. "I…" he looked around the room and to the guards. "I had a bad dream." He sunk down on his bed and lowered his gaze. "It was a nightmare."

The guard could see how pale and shaky Johnny was. He also knew from experience the signs of nausea. "Why don't you get some water and get back in bed and the rest of you too. Show's over…back to bed." He turned and left the room turning the lights out before slamming the door.

Johnny flinched at the clicking of the bolt. Maybe he did belong in a locked room. The way his emotions had taken control of him must mean he was crazy. Not wanting to draw attention to himself any further he curled into his pillow and pulled the blanket to his chin.

"Man you're one crazy half breed. That mixed blood of yours must have made you wacko." Davey sent the verbal jab across the space between their beds. "You better be glad you didn't snitch either." Davey tried to maintain the tough exterior he presented to the others when in fact Johnny's behavior had scared him deeply.

That was the last time any night time pranks were played on Johnny.

It would also be the last time he allowed his emotions to control his reactions.


	2. Chapter Two

Officer Brewster watched over her boys with a strong hand, but also with a love like that of their mothers. She worked tirelessly to find the families of her boys in hopes to reunite them and get her boys out of the correctional network and back into private homes. It seemed that the more she looked for Johnny's family the more road blocks she encountered. She had traced his Native American heritage back to a reservation in the next town, but no one would claim what they called the "Half Breed". They wanted nothing to do with the boy. Of course she never told the boys about her efforts unless they led to a happen reunion. It saddened her greatly that such a kind young boy would be shunned in such a cruel manner.

Finding no one from that half of his parentage she turned to his father's family. She had tracked them to California. Roderick Gage had been born in Santa Barbara, California to Samuel and Roberta Gage. He had a sister named Rose. Samuel and Roberta were deceased and so that left Rose as his only living relative on record. The information she was able to retrieve about Rose was that she had never married which should make her easier to find since her name would still be Gage.

Officer Brewster had taken a trip leaving Warden Tompkins in charge of her boys. When she came back it was with a heavy heart. She had not been able to locate Rose Gage, and now thought that Johnny would have to spend the rest of his teenage years at the center. The prospect saddened her. The year he had already been there changed him. The once bright twelve year old had become an angry almost fourteen year old whose grades had dropped and who spoke less and less. His eyes had become dark and lifeless. He no longer met her for their special snack time and hadn't for months now.

Johnny had always been a good student. He generally brought A's on his report cards, but they had started falling for several months now. The teachers said he had stopped participating in class and often daydreamed instead of paying attention. "He sits and stares out the window. When I call on him it's as though he wasn't even in the room during our discussions. He doesn't turn in his homework and lately I don't even see him carrying his books." His teacher had said when Officer Brewster called to discuss several of her boy's grades. "Ever since that misunderstanding a few months ago it's as if he has just given up."

"Well being accused of destruction of school property when you were innocent but no one would listen to you because they thought since you came from a Juvenile Detention Home that you must deserve to be there just might bring on some distraction." Officer Brewster had told the teacher.

"Yes it was unfortunate that he was punished for that when he hadn't done it after all, but you have to understand our standpoint. We believed the child that lied. He comes from a good home with two very successful parents. We had no idea that he was the child that had painted those horrible words on the gym walls. If we had known Johnny would never have been made to stay after school and repaint the gym." The teacher tried to make excuses, but they fell on unsympathetic ears.

"He tried to tell you."

"Yes, yes he did, but you see our position."

"No I fail to see how you could take one student's word over another when he has never given you reason to doubt him. When he has never done anything, but come to class and perform with excellent ability and good marks. No…I don't see, and I never will. Some of the boys at our facility are there as a result of their upbringing, some from bad choices and at least one, because of his heritage. None of my boys deserve any less than the best we can give them to try to help them become responsible law abiding adults. Now, with that in mind, what do you plan to do to try to help Johnny bring his grades back up?" Officer Brewster held the receiver to her ear and waited for the teacher to respond. She knew she was still on the line…she could hear her breathing.

"Maybe if I talk to the boy?"

"The boy's name is Johnny."

"Yes Officer Brewster, I know his name. I'll talk to him; see if I can get him to pay attention in class. Um…"

"Is there some extra credit work that might help him bring up his grade?"

"I'm sure I can think of something."

But the extra credit never came, and Johnny became more withdrawn. He spent more and more time alone. She often found him outside in gated courtyard. While the others watched television, he would slip out there and stare up at the stars. Johnny was slipping into his own world, and she didn't know how to draw him out again.

Her despair turned to hope again when she received some information about Rose Gage. Johnny's aunt had been traveling overseas in Europe and had not received word of her brother's death. She had seen Johnny as a baby, but of course he had no memory of that. She had sent word to Officer Brewster that she would be returning to the states sometime next month and would make arrangements to come see the boy. She hoped that Rose would want to take Johnny with her to California, but a single woman trying to raise an angry teenage boy she had only met as a baby would be difficult if not impossible, so she prayed hard about it. If there was any hope for things to work out for Johnny, God would have to have a hand in it. The thing that most worried her was that Rose Gage had gotten married in Europe. Now the newlyweds were coming home to tragedy and a nephew who needed them. Would they be willing to take on that responsibility?

Things did not go as planned. Rose and her husband did not come back so soon. He fell ill and they had to stay in Europe. It would be months before they made it back to California let alone to meet their nephew.

Johnny ended up getting farmed out to several foster homes in the next few months.

Johnny had already experienced foster care at its worst before being sent to the juvenile detention center. Immediately after his parent's deaths he had been sent to live with a family on the reservation. His father had been good at ranching and even though Johnny had been a bit small for his age had allowed him to being learning the trade. Johnny had learned to rope calves, muck stalls and groom and care for the animals. He was a natural with them. His father had said the animals could sense his kind nature. His foster parents had hoped to take on the child to work their ranch, but the boy had been so grief stricken and afraid that he lacked any desire to participate in their plan.

"I said get up and muck that stall!" His foster father yelled at him with his fists balled and his face flaring red. Johnny remained still; staring through the man as though he wasn't there. The blank stare enraged the man. "Get up!"

Johnny felt the rough grip on his thin arms; he felt himself pulled to his feet and the first blow across his face stung, but he didn't care. This was not his home. This was not his father. These were not his animals. His animals had been sold to the highest bidder; his home emptied and the proceeds dispersed according to the tribal leader's wishes. Johnny had nothing. He didn't care that the smelly man shoved him against the stall trying to get him to take the pitchfork. He didn't care that his lip continued to bleed dripping onto his worn shirt.

The next thing he knew his things had been packed and dropped beside him where he lay on the barn floor. No tears fell from his eyes. No noise slipped from his bleeding lips. "Get out you worthless piece of trash." His foster mother had spat at him. "We should have known you were just a useless half breed."

Somehow Johnny managed to find his way to the ranch that had been his family home. Not knowing what else to do and having nowhere to go he hid in the barn. Several days passed before the new owner's found him passed out in the hay loft. When he awoke again he was back at the clinic where the doctors and nurses preferred to keep him in the fog he hated so desperately.

Next he had been placed with another couple who lived in the town near the reservation, a white couple. It turned out they only took him in to show that they were good people who didn't hold prejudice against Indians. Johnny hadn't stayed there long before the real reason he had been taken in by this couple was that the man was a feed dealer and only wanted to gain favor with the ranch owners on the reservation so they would buy from him.

Johnny remembered listening from his room as his foster mother yelled at her husband about having to take care of the little savage. "They aren't even buying feed from us. Why do I have to keep working my fingers to the bone washing his clothes and feeding the little waif! He doesn't' even talk. That little savage doesn't even appreciate what we have done for him!"

"If we don't do something we'll lose the feed store!" Her husband yelled back. "The ranches on the reservation are the most successful in the county. I need their business!"

"Well you aren't getting it anyway. Send him away! I won't take care of him any longer!"

Johnny put his hands over his ears and let the quiet tears slip from his eyes. He missed his parents and just wanted to be left alone. The next morning he had been sent to the home for troubled kids. That was the only place that would accept 'his kind'.

History seemed to be repeating itself with the families Johnny was tossed to and from. Most of the families didn't know what to do with the quiet boy. He didn't mix well with their other children and seemed to get into more trouble at school. No one ever took the time to ask him why he got in trouble. No one took the time to find out that he had been taunted relentlessly by the other students and some of the teachers for his Native American heritage. No one asked him about the nightmares that woke him in the middle of the night screaming. They just sent him back to the center and to Officer Brewster who always welcomed him with open arms. The boy was quickly becoming a young man.

The last family had kept Johnny the longest, but in the end Johnny had fled. The man had hit him in the face one time too many when Johnny refused his secret advances. They had been 'cleaning the garage' when the man had sidled up behind him and began rubbing his shoulders. He had touched Johnny like that before, but the wife had come into the room stopping the man's advances. Johnny knew the man's behavior was wrong and had been able to keep his distance until that morning when his foster mother told him that 'her men' would be cleaning the garage today.

"Right after breakfast you two will be cleaning out the garage. I'm planning a yard sale next weekend. I just know there are some things out there that we can sell." She smiled at them as she dished out scrambled eggs on their plates. "That's why I have prepared my men this big breakfast. You really have your work cut out for you."

"We'll do a great job for you sweetie." Johnny's foster dad looked at him when he spoke instead of at his wife. "Won't we son?"

Johnny didn't respond. He simply picked up his fork and started eating the eggs. He usually had cold cereal while his foster parents enjoyed eggs and bacon or pancakes. They had told him it was too expensive to feed him that kind of food every day.

Johnny dreaded going out to the garage alone with his foster father. He wouldn't be able to get far away from the man. But when he felt the hands on his shoulders and hot breath close to his neck he had jerked away. Before he could get far enough from the man's reach he had been spun around and saw stars when the large fist contacted with his eye. He stumbled, but was able to regain his footing and fled into the house. He ran to the room where he slept and grabbed for his things throwing them on the blanket from the bed and balling them into a bundle. He raised the window, pushed out the screen and climbed out.


	3. Chapter Three

He didn't know where to go. His eye hurt and had begun to swell. He started out running with no real direction…just away. He ran and ran until he couldn't run any further, and then he walked. For hours he walked and walked. It was getting dark outside when he finally decided he was far enough away. By that time he was outside of town near the reservation that had once been his home. He didn't want anything to do with that place either, so he found a spot beneath an old wooden bridge and settled in for the night. It was fall and quite cold at night. Johnny didn't know that rain had been forecast for the night. He didn't know that before morning he would be soaked to the bone.

When the first drops of rain began seeping through the boards above his head and hitting his cheek he had simply pulled the blanket over his head. He had used his clothes as a pillow. After a few moments the trickle became a deluge and not only was the blanket soaked, but his clothes were too. He felt the cold against his damp skin and decided that he needed to move. Johnny quickly bundled up his things and set out again.

Not knowing where else to go, he decided he would go to Officer Brewster for help. The detention center had felt more like home to him than the several foster places he had been since being sent away from there. Maybe they would let him come back.

Several days later and several very cold nights found Johnny at the front gate. He knew from experience that the boys would be leaving for school shortly by the angle of the sun, so he slipped into the trees across the street to wait for the gate to open. Exhausted from the past few days' travel, Johnny fell asleep on the damp ground beneath the trees. When he awoke the sun was high in the afternoon sky. Johnny slowly got to his feet and made his way across the road. He slipped through the gate that was usually open during the day and toward the main entrance.

It had been several months since he had been there, but everything looked the same. Johnny made his way down the corridor with the heavy doors, monitors and adjoining speakers to the one he had been assigned to during his stay. The door stood open because the boys were at school. Johnny walked over to the bed that had been his wanting to simply crawl into it as he had when he had first been brought to the facility, but he thought the bed might belong to another boy now. He turned toward the heavily curtained window and padded between the row of beds and footlockers to the window. Then he turned to the corner where he laid out his dusty, road weary blanket, stacked his clothes to rest his head on and eased himself down for a rest. The swelling on his eye had gone down some, but he still winced at the ache that he seemed to feel every time he closed it. He hadn't bothered to find a mirror in the past several days to look at it. He knew it must be bruised and colorful.

Johnny could feel the cool wooden floor beneath the blanket, but a warmth and comfort seemed to fill his heart as he felt safe for the first time in a long time.

Officer Brewster sat in her office enjoying an afternoon cup of coffee enjoying the quiet before the boys got back from school. When she heard a knock at the door, she almost pretended not to be there. This was one of the few pleasures she allowed herself while the boys were away from the facility. But she knew no one would disturb her unless it was important. "Yes, come in."

The door opened slowly and one of the guards peeked in. "Sorry to disturb you, but there is something I need you to see."

Officer Brewster took one last sip of the warm brew and rose from her desk chair. "What is it?"

"I think one of your boys has decided to skip school today."

"One of my boys? I don't think so, I watched them all file out the gate this morning. Why do you think it's one of mine?" She said as the two walked down the corridor toward the wards.

"I saw him on the monitor in your ward. For some strange reason he curled up in the corner on the floor."

"He what? He'll catch his death of cold!" She quickened her pace. "Who is it?"

"I'm not sure; I didn't see him when he came in. I was on lunch."

"You weren't watching the monitors?" She glared at the man.

"No ma'am, we aren't required to stay at the monitoring station when all the boys are out of the facility. If one is sick or for whatever reason stays home from school then we do, but no one was supposed to be here today." He explained.

"Oh, that makes sense, I guess." They had made it to her ward. She walked softly between the beds not wanting to frighten the boy. What she found when she knelt down beside the covered boy surprised her. It was Johnny, and he looked terrible. "Johnny?" She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up sweetie." Officer Brewster couldn't see the black eye, but she could see how dirty he was. "Johnny?" She shook him again.

When he finally stirred Officer Brewster gasped when she saw his fever bright cheeks and the dark purple around his eye. "Oh, Johnny! What happened to you?"

His answer came in a deep racking cough that left him breathless. He didn't answer. Instead he closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the pile of clothes. All he wanted to do was sleep until he felt better.

"Help me get him to his bed." Officer Brewster looked to the guard as she moved around to slide her hands beneath Johnny's arms.

"Which bunk?"

"The one he's always had. There's no one assigned to it. They kept sending him back." They struggled over to the bunk. "Just put him on top of the blanket for now. We need to clean him up and then we'll change the bedding." She smoothed the damp hair from Johnny's face and felt the warmth coming off his skin. "Maybe we need to call the doctor."

"Do you want me to go do that?"

"No you stay with him. I'll call after we get him cleaned up." She turned to go get a bowl of warm water and towels.

The guard looked down on the sleeping teen. 'What kind of trouble have you gotten into now?' He automatically believed that Johnny had been a ward of the state due to some horrible wrong he had committed and not simply because he was unwanted even by other agencies set up to protect orphaned children, because of his being half Native American.

Officer Brewster returned quickly and placed the wash basin on the foot locker. "Help me get him out of these filthy things." She moved beside the bed and lifted Johnny's sleeping form from the pillow. The guard helped her pull his shirt off only to reveal how much weight Johnny had lost. His ribs were prominently sticking out and his shoulders looked bony. "Oh, you poor baby, haven't they been feeding you?"

"Man he's about the skinniest kid I've ever seen." The guard remarked.

"He was always skinny, but this is the worst I've seen. Now let's get his shoes and pants." She continued her ministrations to get Johnny more comfortable. With the guard's assistance they finally had Johnny undressed, bathed, at least the best they could with a bed bath, and dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. Then they had rolled him this way and that until they had the bed freshened as well. The exhausted teen never woke, but the two caregivers had felt the heat emanating from his skin. They knew his fever was high. They also knew where he had been and how far the journey was to get back to the center. They knew it must have taken him several days to walk it and at least two cold nights one of which had been very wet and cold. "It's no wonder he's sick." Officer Brewster said as she finished tucking the extra blanket around the youth.

"So, what's his story?" The guard wondered aloud.

"What do you mean?"

Not realizing he had spoken aloud the man almost jumped when she asked. "I mean what did he do to get sent here to begin with? And why on earth would he come back on his own will?" The guard scratched his ear as he spoke.

"Nothing…he didn't do anything except be born." She said sadly. "Born of parents from two cultures neither of which was very accepting."

"You mean he didn't get sentenced here by the court?" Astonishment shone on the guard's face.

"No he didn't. His parents were killed in an auto accident and Johnny had nowhere to go. We found an aunt that would have taken him, but she's in Europe with her sick husband and can't get back here. We hoped by placing him in foster care that he would have a better life, but I guess we were wrong. He must have come back here, because this is the only place he knew to come."

"Man." He ran his hand through his hair. "That's a shame…poor guy. He doesn't look weird like some mixed race people. What is he anyway?"

"He's half white and half Native American." Officer Brewster stood watching the guard's reaction. When he didn't seem bothered by Johnny's heritage she continued talking. "His parent's took him to live on the reservation. They owned a ranch and had gone into town one day. On the way back they were hit by a large truck. His mother died at impact, but his father lingered at the hospital for several days. Johnny hadn't been seriously injured, but was very traumatized, as anyone would be under the circumstances. When the doctors had kept him sedated as long as they could and he had no medical reason to be in the hospital they tried to send him back to the reservation, but no one would take the boy in. He was only twelve at the time. The children's home refused to take him too stating that he was unacceptable. We were the only option left for him. He was just a scared little boy, a scared little boy that lost the opportunity to be a normal boy; lost when his parents died, but really lost at conception. He's never been able to just be a kid."

The guard discretely wiped moisture from his eyes and turned to leave the room. He hadn't ever heard such a sad tale, and didn't want Officer Brewster to see how emotional it had made him. "I'd better get ready for the others. They should be back from school pretty soon." He stopped and turned back. "Should I tell them not to come in here? Maybe send them to the common room."

"That would be a good idea, at least until the doctor comes to check him out. I'm afraid he may have pneumonia. My mother used to get it every year. There's no mistaking the wheezing. I'll be surprised if he doesn't have it."

"Yeah, my brother used to get it too. Once you've had it you tend to get it more easily. I'll just meet the others at the door."

"Thank you."

Johnny did have pneumonia and a possible cracked cheek bone, but without x-ray's the doctor couldn't be sure. Since he was already settled and Officer Brewster had some medical training it was decided that Johnny could stay put rather than taking him to the hospital. But he was given oral antibiotics and instructions to be brought to the hospital if he worsened at all.

Finally, after several months and almost three full years after he had lost his parents, Rose Gage Watson came for her nephew.

Johnny clung to Officer Brewster, his hand holding hers. His experiences with foster care had left him wary of anyone. He didn't know these people who had come claiming to be his family. Sure the woman looked like his father, but three years had made his father's face fade from his memory. She could be anyone. Why would they send him all the way to California? Had he been that bad? Had he caused that much trouble?

He pleaded with Officer Brewster and Warden Tompkins not to send him away, but in the end he stood, packed and ready and waiting by the door as his aunt and uncle said their goodbyes to Officer Brewster and Ward the detention center staff. Johnny turned his back on them and planned to never look back. He felt the same contempt for them as he had for the doctors and nurses who had continually plunged him into darkness with their sedatives as his father lay dying. His mother had died in the crash, but his father had lingered at the hospital and Johnny had watched him slip away.

Now he was being uprooted again and sent away to a foreign place with people he didn't even know. He had slipped into silence again. Officer Brewster felt a great deal of heartache over sending him away after he'd begged to stay, but she knew this was the best thing for the young man. Someday he would know it too. Someday he would thank her for it…she hoped. "Goodbye Johnny." She pulled him into an embrace. He leaned his head against her shoulder, but didn't hug her back. Silent tears slid down his cheeks.


	4. Chapter Four

"You look just like your father." Rose Gage Watson smiled at her nephew. "But you have your mother's eyes." Johnny flinched away from his aunt's touch. Her heart ached at the pain in his eyes when he pulled his chin from her hand.

Johnny turned away and stepped closer to Officer Brewster. His resolve, to never think of her again, was not as strong as his anger at her letting these people take him away wanted it to be. She had been a constant in his young life for several years, someone he could depend on, someone who helped him through the dark days and someone to encourage him when he brought home good marks from school. She had filled the void left when his mother and father died. No one else in his world had cared enough to do that. But Johnny didn't get too close…not close enough for her to touch him. He didn't want that. He had been distancing himself from everyone at the center ever since he had been told that he was leaving. He thought if he had already cut them from his life then leaving them wouldn't hurt so much.

He was wrong.

Johnny knew that when it came right down to it he was alone. He was the only person who could truly decide his future, and right then he wanted to stay. The pain in his heart was no easier than the pain at losing his parents. The turmoil he felt churning inside overwhelmed him; he looked down to the floor. If he looked at anyone they would see the moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes, and he couldn't let them. He had to be strong. He had to be a man.

Officer Brewster knew him well enough to know that the vacant look in his eyes revealed the sad thoughts in his head. She knew he wanted to stay, and in her heart she wanted him to stay as well. If the courts would have allowed it she would have adopted Johnny herself, but they would never give a teenage boy to a single woman. She did nothing to hide the tears that pooled in her eyes.

"Well if we hope to get to California by tonight we don't need to miss our flight. Officer Brewster…" Rose turned from her nephew and looked at the correctional officer. "Thank you for looking after John and Warden Tompkins for keeping him safe until we could return to the states. I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate it." She then turned back to her nephew, "Come John we must go now."

Much like he had when he first came to the home Johnny followed his aunt and uncle without really looking up to see where he was going. The sight broke Officer Brewster's heart. So much had been gained over the few years he'd been with them, and yet so much had been lost. This was not the scared little boy they had first taken in. This was a young man who had lost all innocence the day his parents were ripped from him in the blink of an eye. Now the confidence he'd gained seemed to have become lost in the fear of the unknown. Fear of what his life would be like with the relatives he didn't even know. Would they be like the foster parents he'd had? Or would they be like his parents? After all this was his father's sister.

Johnny stopped at the door and glanced back at the two adults who had offered him the most kindness in the time since his parent's deaths. He let out a deep sigh, but omitted no sound save the air that rushed from his too thin frame. Then he turned and slowly followed his aunt and uncle to the waiting taxi.

The ride to the airport was done in silence. Johnny stared out the window watching the town flash by. When the taxi passed the school, it stood dark. The dime store was closed. It didn't matter. Not now. He would never be back.

Rose watched her nephew from the opposite side of the taxi. Her husband rode in the front passenger seat. Even though he had his head turned away she could see his reflection in the window. He looked so much like her brother it was like looking back in time. She watched as he tilted his head upward when they neared the airport and the planes roared overhead. His face changed from solemn to curious. She could see every emotion like a banner in his eyes. She smiled to herself. Not only did he look like his father, she could tell what he was thinking just like she could with her brother. The thought brought home the reality that her brother was gone, and she was left with the responsibility of raising his son. She blinked back the tears that threatened. She loved the boy already.

Johnny sat up taller in the seat and pressed the side of his face to the window trying to see the jet as it flew overhead. He couldn't help the excitement that welled. He was about to take his first plane ride. Trepidation at his destination was now overshadowed by the prospect of flying.

The taxi pulled alongside the curb in front of the terminal.

Johnny looked over at his aunt and uncle as they got out of the vehicle. For a split second he thought about running. All he would have had to do is open the door, slide out quickly and take off. Maybe they wouldn't catch him. But that thought disintegrated into memories of the nights he spent outside in the cold while trying to get back to the center. He shuddered at the memory. He sat frozen in his seat until his aunt leaned back into the cab.

"Come on John. We don't want to miss our flight."

Johnny slowly slid across the seat and climbed out. He stood next to his aunt and looked at the people coming and going. His uncle, with the help of the cabbie, had loaded their things on a cart and waited beside the entrance.

Rose placed her hand on Johnny's shoulder. "It's alright you know?" She waited for some answer, a nod, a shrug, a sound, but none came. It was as if Johnny had learned to hide all emotion. She dropped her hand to her side and started toward her husband. Johnny followed.

Once inside the terminal the hustle and bustle of passengers dropping off luggage, getting their boarding passes and others picking up their belongings and meeting family and friends was mind boggling. Johnny's eyes moved from one to the other, but with his head down and his long dark hair shielding the view, no one could tell that he saw any of the activity. He was fascinated by the rapidity of it all.

In no time at all the small group of travelers had acquired their tickets and now stood at the gate where the attendant approved them for boarding. Aunt Rose had to produce official documents that proved she was now Johnny's legal guardian. After a quick glance they were given clearance and moved toward the waiting airplane. Johnny couldn't help himself. The closer they got to the door the closer he got to his aunt and uncle. His thoughts suddenly filled with the possibility that the plane might crash. The excited butterflies in his stomach were fast becoming more like giant birds. He could feel his heart racing. He gripped the hem of his coat. His eyes darted from side to side contemplating that escape he'd decided against not ten minutes ago in the taxi, but too soon they were at the door and the stewardess ushered them inside and to their seats.

Rose stopped in the aisle and waved her hand toward the window seat. "You sit by the window." She smiled. "That way you can see Los Angeles as we fly over. It's beautiful at night."

Johnny simply slid into the seat and stared out the window.

About half way to California Johnny began to feel sick to his stomach. He shifted restlessly in his seat. When Rose looked over at him she could see that he looked a little pale. He was swallowing over and over, and his foot tapped nervously on the floor. "Are you sick?"

Johnny half turned in his seat toward the window and leaned his head back against the seat. He didn't want anyone to know he was being such a sissy. But the truth was he did feel sick.

"It's alright. A lot of people get air sick. I'll get the stewardess to bring you some soda. That might help."

Johnny turned and glanced at his aunt over his shoulder. She was being nice to him, like Officer Brewster. He turned his body back to the front and waited on his soda. Maybe his aunt did want him, at least for now.

The stewardess brought him a cup of soda which his aunt told him to drink slowly.

It wasn't a very long flight, but it was long enough for the soda to churn in his stomach to the point that it needed to come up. Before Johnny could decide what to do his aunt had heard the involuntary gagging in his throat. She had grabbed the bag from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of Johnny and held it for him as he lost the hold he tried to have on his stomach. He could feel her brushing his hair from his face and hear her telling him it would be alright. When he was finished she wiped his face with the damp cloth the stewardess had brought them. She tucked a pillow behind his head so he could lean against it and still see LA as they came in for landing. With nothing in his stomach he didn't feel as queasy.

He did feel more at ease with his aunt though and that wasn't a bad feeling.

Once they arrived in California Johnny had quickly been enrolled in the nearby high school. He was a junior. It turned out that California was different from his home town. Back home the people from town looked down on the Indian population. In California he was just another kid, but he had trouble understanding and accepting that. The ability to trust anyone had long since been lost.


	5. Chapter Five

Johnny's aunt and uncle made him feel like they wanted him with them in California, but when he had first been sent to other foster homes things always started out good. They just didn't stay that way. Doubt clouded his feelings keeping him from fully relaxing into his new family.

They lived in a two story house with three bedrooms upstairs. Johnny moved into one of the extra rooms. His aunt and uncle had been in Europe when they found out about him and hadn't had time to fix up the room. When he first arrived he had slept in the other bedroom. There wasn't a bed for him in his new room. Rose had painted the room blue in the first week and a bed was delivered the following Monday. "You need a desk to do your homework on, and a lamp." She stood at the door surveying the room once the bed had been made. "You could come with me to pick it out. Would you like that?"

Johnny shrugged his thin shoulders. Why should he pick out things for his room if it wouldn't be his for very long.

Rose could see the doubt running in his head. She knew he was afraid things would turn bad for him again. The deep sadness she'd seen on the first day she met him had faded slightly over that first week, but the insecurity still held on. "John, this is your room. It will be your room as long as you want it to be. Okay?" She waited for some kind of reaction, but he just stood beside the bed staring at the navy comforter. "Then I'll just pick something out. If you don't like it we'll return it and try again." She would do whatever it took to make her nephew know he was loved.

The high school was close enough for Johnny to walk to. He was enrolled and began classes right away. Johnny did well in school and usually brought home good grades, but at home he was still very withdrawn. His English teacher even made him editor of the school newspaper. "You write with such emotion Johnny. Please consider taking the lead with the paper. I just know with you at the helm we'll surely bring home all the district awards for high school papers." His teacher begged him to do it. In the end he had agreed. After all he didn't have many friends and so he had lots of free time to work on it.

Johnny often felt restless. He always seemed to be a bundle of energy. One afternoon while snapping pictures of the football practice he noticed several boys jogging around the black asphalt track that encircled the field. He didn't realize how long he had watched them until when he turned back to the football practice the team had begun picking up their gear and heading into the locker room, so he turned back to watch the runners. Something about the way they moved interested the restless boy.

The next morning Johnny slipped from his aunt and uncle's house before sun up and hurried over to the school track. He didn't know how to start. He'd never jogged before. He'd run like all kids, but this was different. It was a sport. He didn't want to be seen doing it wrong. He checked the strings on his sneakers, hung his jacket on the fence and walked out onto the track. When he watched the runners the day before they had done several stretches, so Johnny tried to mimic their actions, and then he bounced on the balls of his feet a few times before starting on the long stretch before him. When he had made one lap around the field he felt energized. It was as though he had run out of his old self and into a new skin. He checked his watch and realized his aunt and uncle would be looking for him at the breakfast table soon. He hurried back to his new home.

Funny he didn't remember when it had started to feel like home, but somehow it had. His aunt and uncle were good to him. They even bought him the camera he now used for the newspaper. He had only been living there for about six months, but they had been a good six months.

When he stepped into the kitchen panting from the run his aunt looked up from the stove and smiled at him. "Good morning Johnny. Where have you been?"

"Went jogging." He walked quickly up beside her and gave her a swift peck on the cheek.

Rose's hand went to her cheek. It was the first time her nephew had done that. She was afraid to give too much of a reaction for fear he would be uncomfortable, but she needn't have worried. Johnny smiled at her with a broad crooked grin; then he spun around on his toes and hurried to his room to get ready for school leaving Rose standing in the kitchen reeling with joy. Johnny finally seemed to have adjusted to his new home. She knew she would never forget that first kiss on the cheek and the genuine smile that followed. Finally, Johnny realized this was his home and they were his family.

After several days of his own private morning jog Johnny was stopped by the track coach. "I've been watching you Gage."

Johnny's head jerked up. He dropped the towel he'd been rubbing the sweat on his neck and shoulders with. He didn't know anyone else was there. "I…um…I didn't mean to trespass. I'll um…I'm sorry. I'll just go…"

The coach raised his hands in surrender. "Hey it's okay. I've seen you out here for days now. I even timed you on the 440. You're good."

Johnny's face screwed up and he looked at the coach. "The 440?"

"Twice around; you have the fastest time of all the boys on my team." The coach blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you ever considered running track."

"Join the team? I've never run track, Coach. I don't know how." Johnny splay his hand across his chest.

The coach chuckled, "From what I see you'll do fine. You need to work on your stretches so you don't pull a muscle or anything, but I can show you the right way to do them or team you up with one of our senior boys. I think you'll make a great addition to our long distance runners. What do ya say?"

"I have to ask my aunt and uncle, but sure. Why not?" Johnny shrugged. "Can I let you know tomorrow?"

"Practice starts right after school."

And that is how Johnny joined the track team. All he had to do was show up after school and run much like he had before school for days now. He headed home that morning with a new spring in his step.

Johnny was teamed up with another long distance runner who matched his height. Gil Robinson also happened to be a big man on campus. Not only was he the star of the track team but in addition played on the basketball team and was very popular with the girls. Johnny enjoyed watching and learning Gil's track moves, but other than their practice sessions the two didn't really spend a lot of time together. Gil always had lots of things going on, and often had to hurry off to some party or school event. That actually turned out to be okay with Johnny. He had decided not to get too close to anyone in case he had to leave, but that was getting harder and harder to do.

Things settled into a routine for the little family. Johnny's uncle even taught him how to drive, so that he could get to the track meets on days that his aunt and uncle had to work. Sometimes the school arranged a bus, but others at nearby high schools they had to get there on their own.

Then when things finally seemed to be looking up for him life betrayed him again.

His uncle got very sick and died.

His aunt had to sell their home and they were forced to move into a low income apartment in a seedy area. She had to work two jobs to keep food on the table. Johnny finished his junior year winning several awards at the end of the school year awards ceremony, one for the fastest time in the long distance running where he had gone to the state championship with his team and one for the many literary competitions their newspaper had been included in, but the one that meant the most to his Aunt Rose was the one for academic achievement for being a straight A student.

Rose and Johnny framed his certificates and put them on the wall to his tiny bedroom.

That would be his last year at his new high school. Johnny went to summer school that year and graduated early so he could help his aunt. His aunt and uncle had given him a home and he had come to love them deeply. He understood his aunt's heartache at losing her husband. Johnny didn't want to add to her struggles. He decided that rather than have her work so hard to keep supporting him he would find a way to make it on his own.


	6. Chapter Six

The alarm clock rang under the pillow startling Johnny awake. The beating of the little hammer against the bells was not a welcome sound. It was way earlier than he usually got up. He groaned to the empty room, fished beneath the pillow; grabbed the offending thing and quickly shut if off.

The pre-dawn light filtered through the curtains giving enough light for him to see his small bedroom. As he lay in the bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes a car horn blared in the distance reminding him if he wanted to sneak out of the house before his aunt woke up he had to hurry. He slipped from beneath the sheets and sat on the side of the bed. The worn wooden floors felt cold on his bare feet.

As he rose from the bed he noticed the stream of light filtering through the iron bars on the window cast a strange pattern on the picture he kept on the desk of his aunt, uncle and him when he won his first 440, his medal hung around his neck and they were all so happy, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.

He turned to grab his gym bag and stubbed his toe on the dresser. Letting out a yelp, he grabbed his foot and hopped slightly in the cramped space; then snatched the bag from atop the stack of boxes in the corner that never got unpacked due to the lack of space and tossed it on the bed. As the stinging eased he exhaled a deep sigh.

'WhatshouldItake?'

He turned to the dresser and ran his hand through his sleep mussed hair and then reached for the top drawer. After a few minutes of packing the necessities he threw in one good shirt and his best pair of slacks. He would need those for job interviews. Then he moved the bag to the dresser, slipped in the picture and zipped it up.

Quickly he made up the bed and replaced the pillow he'd tossed to the floor a habit he'd retained from his time at the juvenile detention center. 'AtleastAuntRoseneverhadtotellmetomakemybed.' He smoothed the wrinkles from the comforter.

He hurriedly dressed in his favorite sweats, grabbed the bag and slipped furtively from the room.

Tip toeing down the hall was not an easy task. Everywhere he stepped the ratty floor boards creaked and cracked. He was sure the noise would wake up his aunt, and that was the last thing he wanted, but luck was not on his side that morning. His next step emitted the loudest crack. To his young ears it sounded like it echoed down the hallway and rebounded off his aunt's bedroom door.

He froze.

She coughed.

He waited, holding his breath.

When she didn't make any more noise he began moving again.

As he passed his aunt's room a feeling of sadness stopped him in his tracks.

He couldn't leave without seeing her one more time. He stopped just outside her door and listened for a second, cracked open the door and peered through the opening. She lay sleeping in the bed hugging Ben's pillow. Johnny too ached for his uncle. Ben had taught him so many things in the short time they were together. Every Sunday they spent time fixing up their house or working on the cars, changing the oil and simple maintenance and repairs. 'I'mshowingyouthesethings,Johnny,soyoucansaveyourselfmoneywhenyou'reolder.Anythingyoucandoforyourselfcansavemoneyandplusyouwillknowit'sdoneright.' Johnny reminisced about his uncle's words.

He pulled the door to being careful not to wake her and hurried into the tiny kitchen only large enough to hold the stove, sink and folding table that they both ate at. He pulled one of the junk mail envelopes his aunt saved for scratch paper and scribble quickly:

Aunt Rose,

Thank you for all you have done for me. I know that since Uncle Ben died things have been really tough. I think it is time for me to move on. Things will be easier for you. Please know that I love you. I will be in touch soon.

Love, Johnny

Then he tacked the note beneath a magnet on the fridge. When he turned around his aunt was standing in the doorway.

"Johnny?"

He backed up to hide the note he'd just placed beneath the magnet. "Good morning. I was just leaving you a note." He turned and plucked it from the fridge.

"What are you doing up so early?" She looked concerned.

"I…uh…I'm going to look for a job today, a real job. I wanted to get an early start." He didn't look into her eyes when he spoke. He couldn't do that.

"But you're not dressed for a job interview. You should wear your dress slacks and a nice shirt." She reasoned. Johnny thought she didn't have a clue that he had just lied to her, not really a total lie though. He really did plan on getting a job. "Why don't I take you on my way to work? You could go back to sleep for a while."

"No!" He blurted out. "I mean it's all right. I don't want to make you late. I'm just going to walk. That's why I'm up early. I have my dress clothes here in my bag. I didn't want to get them dirty. I'll change at a gas station or McDonald's or something."

"Well it sounds like my boy is growing up on me; taking all this responsibility on like a man." Rose walked over and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm proud of you dear." She stepped back and looked at him, but he still didn't meet her eyes. He felt terrible letting her think that. She had no idea that he wasn't coming back home tonight. He crumpled the note in his fist. "You be careful out there walking before light." She patted his chest. "I'll say an extra prayer you find a job that you'll like. You can tell me about it at dinner."

Johnny quickly turned away before he spoke again. The words caught in his throat, "Uh…" He stammered. "Uh…I better get a move on." He reached for the door. Something deep inside made him turn back and pull his aunt into a hug. "I love you Aunt Rose."

"I love you too." She hugged him back.

He let go of her and bolted out the door. If he stayed in that kitchen for one more second he might lose the nerve to leave.

A loneliness he hadn't felt since first coming to California washed over him as he stepped from the porch and at seventeen years old, almost eighteen, he turned from his home to make his own way in the world. Stopping only long enough to smooth the crumpled note and slip it beneath the windshield wiper on his aunt's car. He couldn't leave her not knowing he wouldn't be back tonight.

Then he set out down the sidewalk as a garbage truck rumbled down the road from house to house banging the cans on the back of the truck as the handlers deposited life's waste into the waiting compactor.


	7. Chapter Seven

What he soon found out was that the feelings he had as a boy were correct. The world was a harsh and cruel place.

Like most seventeen year olds, Johnny had no real plan. He just thought boldly that he could go out there in the world; find a job and a place to live. He never considered that his age would be a deterrent.

Things didn't go so well for him on his own.

At seventeen it was hard to find employment.

At first he stayed with a few of his friends from track, one night at one house and then another while he worked different jobs. But since he had graduated early and they were still in school he no longer had much in common with his friends. He soon moved on.

He had many odd jobs he'd been forced to endure, flipping burgers over a hot grill had sucked not to mention the burns from the popping grease that speckled his forearms and the awful stretchy uniforms and ridiculous hat that made his head itch, pouring concrete was hot and dirty and he had ruined his shoes, walking dogs, even though he loved animals, had been the worst, because the owners insisted that he scoop up all of their deposits which he never understood, and he'd mowed more lawns than he cared to remember.

The one job he had wanted was not to be, at least not now.

Johnny stared at the desk clerk at the fire academy. "You don't make any exceptions? My aunt would give her permission."

"No," the middle aged motherly woman looked back at the young man. She could see the longing in his eyes and determination set in his brow, but the rules had been in place since the beginning of the department. "I'm sorry. You have to be eighteen."

"Thank you." He said softly as he turned and slowly walked to the double glass doors that he had hoped would lead him to his future. As he walked by the rows of framed portraits a shudder ran down his back. It was as if the men were staring at him, disappointed in him for trying to bend the rules. He ducked his head and pushed through the doors, bound down the stairs and retrieved his things that he had stowed in the bushes. He squared his shoulders, turned back to the building and declared in a soft statement, "I'll be back. In a year…I'll be back." Then he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk in search of something else.

He needed a job, something that would pay well enough to afford him a place to stay even if he couldn't get any landlords to allow him to sign a lease because he wasn't of legal age.

As he walked down the long road back on the side of the road he found a wallet. Stooping down, he picked it up and looked inside. There was no money in it. 'I guess it was stolen.' He glanced around to make sure no one was watching him. There was an ID in the wallet. It said the dark haired guy in the picture was twenty one. Johnny studied the small picture. 'If they don't look closely…it could be me.' He ended up using the ID to rent a motel room for the night, but that cost a lot of money. He wasn't able to stay there more than a few nights, which wasn't really such a bad thing. During one night Johnny awoke to a strange sound. When he flipped on the light and leaned over the side of the bed he saw several roaches scurry across the floor and beneath the baseboards. He'd already noticed that the room had a distinct smell of age mixed with stale body odor, and now with the unwanted visitors he knew he would be moving on by morning.

After a short time Johnny found himself living on the streets of Los Angeles, sleeping in door alcoves and in dark alleys or parking garages if he could slip in unnoticed before they closed for the night. He only did that when it rained, because if nothing Johnny was honest to a fault. He just didn't know what else to do.

He would go by and visit his aunt regularly at first, but after a while he lost weight.

"Either you've gotten taller or you've lost weight." His aunt looked him up and down.

Johnny shuffled under her gaze. "Taller I guess." He tugged at the waist band of his jeans pulling them up from where they puddled at his ankles from sliding down his too thin hips.

His aunt smiled at him. "Well you are staying for dinner this time aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am." Johnny's stomach growled in anticipation of one of his aunt's home cooked meals. But soon after dinner he made his excuses and left. He was too late for the shelter, so he would need to find a place to sleep.

He didn't want his aunt to know things weren't going well for him so he opted to call her most of the time instead. He had found out that there were places that fed the poor and sometimes he could get to sleep on a cot if he got in line soon enough, so Johnny would get out early to do the landscaping and cutting work he had become proficient at. That way he could finish early enough to get a good place in line at the shelter. He often washed in the yard hoses before rolling them back up and putting them away. One thing Johnny hated was feeling dirty.

He had come to know several of the other shelter residents, some older men who he had started eating dinner with, Gus and Bobby. Johnny enjoyed listening to their stories, and they always saved him a seat.

One night he was late getting back to the shelter and the line was cut off before he got to the front. Like so many each night he was turned away to fend for himself.

As he turned away from the place of refuge he had an uneasy feeling like something bad was about to happen, but he shook it off as silly. He could find an alley somewhere and hold up for the night. No one would find him there. He would just have to work faster tomorrow so he wouldn't get locked out.

With that in mind he set out in the darkened streets of the city to find a place to bunk down for the night.

Johnny found a diner that was still open and he went inside to get some dinner. He didn't need much, just enough to tide him over until he could go back to the shelter for breakfast, maybe a burger and fries. He looked up at the sign above the door "Jimbo's Diner" graced the sign face. He slipped inside and shuffled over to the nearest booth. He slid his knapsack onto the bench and sat down. An older woman came over and took his order. Johnny knew this would take more money than he needed to spend if he hoped to get a permanent place to stay when he turned eighteen in a couple of months, but he was hungry. Maybe he would be able to pick up a couple of odd jobs to make up the difference on the weekend.

When his plate of food was placed on the table he noticed there was also a small salad and a piece of pie. He looked up at the man who delivered the food. "Um I…this is not…I only ordered the burger and fries."

"Well kid…it's like this. I'm about to close and I have all this pie that won't be good tomorrow so I was hoping you might help me by eating some of it." And then the man smiled, turned and walked away. He was behind the counter before Johnny had time to think of a response. He did the only thing he could do. He ate every bite.

When he got up to pay the waitress told him that it would only be three dollars. Johnny knew that was wrong. The hamburger alone was two. He tried to protest, but she wouldn't change the price, and she wouldn't accept any tip. Stunned at their kindness Johnny decided that the alley behind the diner might well be a safe hideaway. He slipped around to the side of the building and found a dry spot behind the dumpster. He was tired and his belly full. He spread out his blanket and folded his clothes to use as a pillow. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.

He was awakened by voices.

When he sat up to investigate he found several guys that he had hung out with before. They were all street dwellers as they liked to be called. "Hey guys what's up?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He noticed that it had started sprinkling. He began to gather up his things. He would need to find a place out of the rain.

The group of guys that had pretended to be his friends now only wanted the little bit of money Johnny had collected from cutting yards that week. He didn't keep much money. His aunt had opened him a checking account when he had moved to LA. He put most of his money there for safe keeping.

"Hand over the cash Gage!"

Johnny backed against the wall. "I don't have much. It's mine. I earned it."

He felt a sharp pain in his jaw when the first fist made contact; then several more fists slamming against his jaw. He bent over to try to deflect the punches only to feel more in his belly. Johnny fell to his knees. He could hear ringing in his ears. His eyes swam with the raindrops that had increased in speed and size. When he toppled to the ground he could feel the force of their feet against his ribs.

He moaned and swallowed trying to stop the acid wash that was making its way up his throat.

"Give us the cash you cry baby!"

Johnny could feel several hands holding him down while others rifled through his clothes in search of his money. He couldn't see their faces through the rain or his eye that had swollen shut. His jaw hurt and blood leaked from his split lip. Johnny fought hard lashing out and kicking with all he had. He tried bucking them off, but there were too many of them.

The last thing he remembered was several shadowed figures laughing at him as they counted his money. They left him there in the cold wet alley, bloody and barely aware. He slipped into darkness just as they turned the corner.


	8. Chapter Eight

Plink... thunk... plink...thunk…

Through the constant soft buzzing in his ears he could hear a steady dripping that seemed to be drilling a hole in his head. That had to be why it ached so. But he didn't have the strength to see where the dripping was coming from. He hurt from head to toe and then some.

Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…

Time seemed to have no meaning in the painful haze. Cold crept in making him involuntarily shiver, but his eyes remained closed.

He was afraid to open them, afraid to find out what had happened to him. He couldn't remember where he was or why he hurt so much, and the way the world teetered with his eyes closed only enhanced the worry that it would be worse with them open…if he could in fact open them. His left eye felt big and tight and either tears leaked from his right eye or something wet was running down his cheek from somewhere else.

Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…

'Rain'… he thought… 'It's raining and I'm wet...cold.' He shivered again and tried to open his eyes, but only the right one cracked to a small slit and the world turned flips. He shut it quickly and tried unsuccessfully to push up from the asphalt. He collapsed back in the puddle in which he lay with a splash. The tiny bit of energy he had now slipped away and the buzzing in his ears seemed to grow louder.

Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…

The rain drops increased in speed. Cold washed over his face and filled his ear. Blinking one eye again Johnny struggled to stay awake. Raindrops fell into the puddle his cheek rested in and splashed cold on his nose. "Uhn." He moaned as he blinked away the sting from the water as it splashed in his eye.

Watching the movement caused when the drops hit the pool of water made him sick to his stomach. He licked his swollen lips and swallowed. The sour taste in his mouth remained. One thing for sure he'd been there all night, because now he could see the first strands of morning light as they snaked around the buildings though dimmed by the rain clouds.

Squeezing his eyes again he tried to hold back the nausea that threatened. He pushed up again and managed to roll to his side and slide back against the brick wall, and then very slowly he pushed himself into a sitting position and fell spent against the bricks. His head hung and his chin rested against his chest. He swallowed again and again. In his new sitting position it seemed as if he could breathe easier, but his side still hurt.

Things slowly came into focus and memories of voices rushed in. They'd laughed at him when they took his money. He reached for his wallet. It wasn't there. With one eye he scanned the alley until he saw it lying open a few feet away, clearly empty.

He couldn't keep himself upright any longer. He slid down the wall and the buzzing closed in again.

James Boyd turned his truck into the parking lot of his early retirement dream. The lighted sign above the diner flickered and then turned off. He glanced at his watch 6 am. 'Right on time.' The timer on the reverse channel letters lined with neon that spelled out JIMBO'S DINER along the edge if the roof seemed to be working perfectly. He grabbed his duffle bag from the seat, slid from the truck and ran for the door through the pouring rain. The streetlights had gone off at 5:30, but the smaller sign above the door provided ample light for him to see well enough to slide the key into the lock with ease.

Once inside he hurried to the kitchen and the alarm pad behind the door. Punching in the code quickly he disabled the system. Then he deposited his bag on the prep table and pulled out his newly sharpened knives. He had a lot to do before the breakfast crowd and thirty minutes wasn't much time. But, first he needed to take out the trash bag he had left beside the back door. He wasn't in the habit of leaving a bag of trash by the back door, but this one had been from the office and was only filled with papers from his late night of trying to balance the books. He didn't want it in his way all day though, so he hurried to unlock the back door and deposit it in the dumpster.

As he stepped into the alley he heard a thud and grunt. He quickly dropped the trash bag and spun while reaching beneath his jacket for the gun that used to rest there in his Los Angeles County Police Department issued holster, but there was no holster and there was no gun. His breathing grew rapid. Sweat beaded on his forehead along with the rain. Jimbo knew he had enemies from his days on the force. Coming out into the alley alone without as much as looking to see if it was clear was not a good idea and poor planning on his part. His superior officers would be very disappointed in his actions. He stepped back into the shadows and scanned the alley for an intruder.

'Jimbo you are such an idiot. It was probably just a cat.'

He stooped down to retrieve the bag and noticed an open wallet. He picked it up instead. It was empty except for an ID that read John Roderick Gage. The picture was of the kid that had come into the diner the night before and based on the birth date he was…just a kid…a kid of seventeen.

Sensing that John Gage had been in some kind of trouble in the alley Jimbo started looking for him. It didn't take long to find him slumped over, unconscious behind the dumpster. 'Not a cat, Jimbo.' He thought as he got down on his knee and reached for Johnny's wrist to see if he was still alive.

The kid was definitely alive, because before Jimbo could get his and around the thin wrist it was jerked from his grasp and tucked against the trembling body it belonged to. One bloodshot eye looked back at him and another looked swollen and very dark. The lighting was dim, but Jimbo thought it was most certainly black. "Easy…" He reached out to touch the boy on the shoulder. "I won't hurt you. You need help."

"'m o…oka..y" Johnny mumbled through his swollen lips."

Jimbo couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped. "Sure you are kid. Now you just stay right here while I call an ambulance. I'll be right back."

Johnny struggled back to a seated position. "NO!" He gasped out. "No am…ula…ce."

"Hey take it easy." Jimbo got back down on his knee.

"No am…ula…ce." Johnny tried to say again.

"Okay…but you're hurt and soaked to the bone. At least let me take you inside and see if we can find you something dry to put on."

Johnny looked at the pile of his wet, soiled clothes and nodded his head. The movement made his stomach roll, and he turned away swallowing rapidly. Somehow he was able to keep his stomach in place. He sighed and leaned back against the wall breathing deeply.

"I'm going to help you inside, and then I'll come back for your things." Jimbo slid his arm around Johnny's shoulder and helped him to his feet. Johnny's knees felt like Jello and he swayed. Jimbo tightened his grip. "Can you make it."

"Yeah…think so." Johnny shuffled his feet and guided by Jimbo, moved toward the back door to the diner. The truth was he wanted to get out of the alley in case those thugs came back, but the buzzing returned and the alley swam before his eyes. "No am...u...lance. K?" He said as he lost the battle to stay awake.


	9. Chapter Nine

Jimbo felt Johnny go limp. He knew the kid couldn't weigh that much so he bent over and lifted him over his shoulder. He carried him through the door and into the office where he kept a cot for the nights he was too exhausted to drive home. He carefully lowered the unconscious teen onto the cot; then he hurried back into the rain to get the clothes as promised and deposit the trash bag into the dumpster.

Back inside he piled the wet clothes in the corner and turned back to look at the kid.

Johnny was soaked to the bone. First order of business had to be getting him out of the wet things and into something dry. Since his meager clothing lay in a soiled heap on the floor, Jimbo had to come up with something else.

He scratched his head and wondered what to do. He didn't have any kids of his own, so he had no experience in caring for a kid much less a teenager. He'd never married. The only woman he ever asked had turned him down. They had been madly in love with each other, but they also were both married to their jobs, she as an ER nurse; he as a cop on the street. 'Maybe I should call her. She would know what to do.' As soon as the thought had occurred to him he shook it off. That would take too long. The kid was shivering even in sleep.

He ran his hand through his damp hair, turned and grabbed his own duffle bag. The sweats he had brought for his mid afternoon workout would be huge on the kid, but it was all he had and the pants did have a drawstring. Maybe skipping his exercises for one afternoon wouldn't cause him too much trouble with his leg. Ever since he had suffered the career ending injury that forced him into early retirement he had needed to workout with the series of stretches and exercises daily to keep his leg from stiffening up on him. "These are gonna swallow you whole kid, but it's all I got." He talked to Johnny as though he could hear him. "Now this isn't gonna be easy, so you just lay still and let me get you dry."

Johnny barely stirred as Jimbo pulled the wet shoes from his feet. "Whoa boy, you need some new sox." He pulled the holey sox from each foot and unceremoniously tossed them into the trash.

Johnny groaned when his jeans soon followed. "We'll keep these. They need a good washing though." Jimbo tossed the jeans into the dirty clothes pile. With no other choice available the boxers would have to stay put, but the torn t-shirt was tossed into the pile with the jeans.

Jimbo grabbed a kitchen towel and tried to clean Johnny up a little before pulling the sweat shirt over his head. "Alright, now this is gonna sting a little." The simple first aid kit he kept in the kitchen had alcohol wipes, iodine and bandages. "This will have to do for now" Jimbo wiped, swabbed and bandaged the small cuts that littered Johnny's torso. "Man kid…I can count your ribs."

The oversized pants came next and then some thick white sports sox.

Johnny snuggled into the warmth of the dry clothes and continued sleeping. As Jimbo spread the blanket over him he realized that the shivering had stopped. "Well that's about all I can do for now except let you sleep."

Jimbo turned to his prep table and began his work day. The breakfast crowd would be there in a short while and he needed to at least make an attempt at being ready, but he kept glancing back to the office and the sleeping teen. 'I hope you don't have any serious injuries. Dixie would have my hide if she found out I didn't bring an injured kid to Rampart not knowing if they were hurt worse than I suspected and took care of them myself. I guess it's a good thing she won't know about it.' That thought saddened him a bit. It was a momentary reminder of the lost love. Jimbo sighed and began chopping the onions he had already peeled.

Several hours later and after a very busy morning rush, Jimbo pushed the door to the office open to check on Johnny. He had made some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and hoped he could wake the teen and get him to eat. When the light from the kitchen shone into the room he could see that Johnny was awake. He lay on the cot with the blankets pulled snuggly against his chin and stared at Jimbo with one eye. "Hey kid. I brought you something to eat."

In a very hoarse whisper Johnny asked him, "Where am I?"

"Well, do you remember last night?" Johnny nodded slightly. He did remember getting mugged. "I hope you liked the pie." Recognition dawned on Johnny's face. He did remember the cook at the diner giving him extra food. "I'm Jimbo." He sat the tray on the edge of the desk and waved his arm at the room. "This is my place."

"Your place?" Johnny asked thinking surely he doesn't live here too.

"Yep, she's all mine. Now can you sit up and eat some soup?" He moved to help Johnny sit up.

It was slow going and Johnny was breathing heavily once they got him to a sitting position. He hurt all over and felt stiff and achy.

Jimbo handed him the cup of soup and made sure he could hold on to it.

Johnny sniffed the liquid and after deciding he liked the smell he blew on it through cracked and split lips before taking an experimental sip.

"It's chicken noodle, my mom's recipe. It's pretty good if I do say so myself." He reached over and got his own cup. "I made the noodles small so you could drink it. I didn't know if you could hold a spoon or not."

Johnny raised one eyebrow in question, but continued to drink. The warm broth felt good on his scratchy throat; the soft noodles tasted good and didn't hurt his sore mouth. "It's good." He licked his lips and winced when they stung.

"Do you want to try a grilled cheese sandwich? I cut the crust off so it would be softer to chew." He handed Johnny a triangular half sandwich which Johnny bit into and savored in his mouth. "There's more if you want it." Jimbo pointed to the tray. "And if you're still hungry I can make some more." He smiled.

"Thanks." Johnny said softly. "I'll just eat and get out of your way." He shifted uneasily on the edge of the cot.

"No you won't. You'll eat and lay back down and rest. I didn't call an ambulance this morning when you asked me not to, but I won't let you walk out of here today. You're hurting."

Johnny tried to sit up straighter and looked up at Jimbo.

"Don't think you can fool me into thinking you're not kid. I'm a retired cop. I'm trained to read people. I can see it in your eyes…well your eye. Now do you want some more to eat or do you want to lay back down and let me get you some ice for that eye?" He pointed at the swollen black eye on Johnny's face. "I'm sure it will help the swelling."

Johnny pushed himself further onto the cot and eased down sideways. The truth was he felt terrible and didn't even know if he could have walked out of the diner on his own two feet.

Jimbo stepped over and helped him get comfortable. "I'll be right back with some ice, and then I'm going to run your clothes to my house and throw them in the wash. I'm pretty sure everything you own is wet and dirty." Johnny sighed and closed his eye. "Okay. Now I'm going to leave you here with Rita. She was here last night. Do you remember her?"

Johnny kept his eyes closed and answered. "She was the waitress." His words slurred a little. He was already drifting to sleep.

"That's right, so don't get any ideas about leaving before I get back. I'll only be gone for a little while. If you need anything Rita will get it for you." Jimbo leaned over and heard a soft snoring. He stood back up and chuckled. "Yeah you were gonna just walk right out of here weren't you John?" He patted Johnny on the shoulder and left the office pulling the door softly closed.

It was late evening when Johnny woke up again. His throat ached terribly. He felt chilled to the bone one minute and kicked the blankets off the next. He also had another pressing need. He tried to disentangle himself from the blankets and get his feet onto the floor. He felt weak and drained even though he'd slept most of the day.

When he finally got up on his feet, he shuffled over to the office door, opened it and leaned against the doorframe.

Jimbo looked up from the grill and saw how unsteady Johnny was on his feet. "Hey kid." He flipped the burgers he was cooking and hung the spatula on its hook. "I bet you need the bathroom, huh?"

Johnny pushed away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the kitchen. He swayed a bit and Jimbo put a steadying hand on his arm.

"Let me show you where it is." He moved Johnny in the direction of the bathroom just off the kitchen for employees. "Rita," he called to the waitress.

Rita looked through the long narrow opening where food was passed from the kitchen to the dining area. "Yeah?"

"Can you watch those burgers? Let Missy take care of the customers for a minute."

"Sure Boss." She disappeared from the window and could be heard telling Missy she would be in the kitchen for a minute.

"Okay John let's get you to the bathroom." He led Johnny the rest of the way to the bathroom. "Can you do this or do you need some help."

"I can do it." Johnny pulled his arm away from Jimbo, but he held onto the door for support. "Been doing it by myself for a long time."

Jimbo chuckled and leaned against the wall to wait for Johnny to finish so he could make sure he got back to the cot alright. He looked over at Rita who smiled at him. "What?" He glared at her.

"Nothing Boss. Not a thing." She turned back to the grill with a huge grin on her face. "Except that when you had me give that kid the pie last night for free I didn't know you were adopting him." She teased.

"Oh be quiet." Jimbo smiled back at her. "How was I supposed to know he was gonna get mugged right outside my back door?" Just then the door opened back up and Johnny shuffled back into the room. "Come on kid. It's back to bed for you."

Johnny started coughing and hunched over a bit with the effort. When he finally got the coughing under control Rita was in front of him with a glass of water which he sipped gingerly. "Thanks." His voice was just a whisper. "I don't feel so good."

"I think some aspirin and some more soup might help." Rita said before turning around and taking the glass over to the sink.

Jimbo and Johnny disappeared back into the office. Jimbo emerged a few minutes later. "I think he has a fever."

"Yeah, his hand felt warm. But you know Jimbo if you're sick it's always worse in the evening and at night." Rita said as she handed him the aspirin and a glass of apple juice.

"Really?"

Rita smiled. "Trust me. It's always like that with my boys."

"Huh…I didn't know that." He shrugged as he turned back to the office. "Oh did you warm up that soup?"

"Let him drink that. If he keeps that down for about thirty minutes try some soup."

"Do you think he's going to throw up or something? He didn't earlier." Jimbo stopped and looked back at her.

"He didn't have a fever then." She answered as she pushed the burgers through the window. "Burgers up." She called to Missy.

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Maybe I'll put the office trashcan closer to the cot in case he needs it."

"That's a good idea. I do that with the boys too. That saves you a lot of clean up. You better make sure it has a clean bag in it." She called to him. "I'm going to check on my tables. Let me know if you need me back in here." She pushed through the door to the dining room.

Jimbo gave Johnny the aspirin and juice and moved the can just as they had discussed.

"I'm sorry." Johnny whispered croakily.

"What for?" Jimbo felt sorry for Johnny. He looked miserable.

"Bein' so much trouble."


	10. Chapter Ten

"Listen kid. You didn't ask for my help. I just gave it, so don't worry about it. Just accept it, okay."

Johnny met Jimbo's eyes, and they looked at each other for a long time; neither giving an inch until Johnny finally nodded his acceptance and snuggled deeper beneath the blankets with a sigh.

Jimbo patted his shoulder. "I'll be back in a little while with some soup. I need to check on the last few customers. Rita has to get home to her boys." He pulled the office door leaving it open a crack in case Johnny needed anything before going out into the dining area.

"How's the kid?" Rita asked as she pulled off her apron and reached for her purse and keys.

"He seems to be holding his own." Jimbo scratched behind his ear, a nervous habit he had when he was pondering something. "He don't complain much, but he looks like hell."

"I bet he's had a hard life." Rita said as she glanced up through the window to the kitchen and at the office door. "What do you plan to do with him tonight?"

"I brought another cot from the house. I'll bed down here tonight. Keep an eye on him." Jimbo shrugged. "I think he's okay, but I can't risk taking him to my place, at least not yet."

"Well, I guess you police types know best where that is concerned." Rita teased. "But seriously Boss, be careful. He may be sick and weak tonight, but tomorrow could be a different story. After all you did say last night that he was just another street urchin."

"There's more to him than that. I can see that now."

Rita looked at Jimbo. She could see that he had already started to have a fondness for the kid. "Where is this idea coming from?"

"The way he speaks. He just doesn't fit the profile of a trouble maker. His hands have calluses on them from some kind of hard work, maybe lawn work. His sox had grass stains on them. Would you believe he apologized just now for being such a burden?"

Rita's mouth formed a silent "O".

"Most street urchins would have been asking for more...food, sodas, cake, you name it. John hasn't asked for one thing. Not one."

Rita smiled. "Geeze Boss, you're already sold on this kid aren't ya?"

Jimbo chuckled. "Momma always did say I brought home all the strays in the neighborhood."

"Well I have to run." Rita turned to leave. "Everyone is finishing up their meals. You might want to check them for drink refills. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks Rita; drive careful." Jimbo turned and grabbed the pitcher of water and the other of sweet tea; anything else he would just bring the glass back to the counter to refill or take them another full glass after he made the rounds. "Hey Rita!"

Rita stopped halfway out the door and waited to see what Jimbo needed.

"Can you do me a favor and call before you head in, just in case I need you to stop for anything on the way?"

"Sure, I'll call." She smiled and let the door slide closed behind her. She knew Jimbo was thinking Johnny might need something. One thing about her boss, he was a teddy bear in a former cop disguise.

A little over an hour later Jimbo put the last touches on mopping the dining area floor. It had been a long day. He was tired and a little hungry. He hadn't heard a peep from the boy and thought it might be time for both of them to have some soup and sandwiches. At least he would have sandwiches. John might be too sick for that, but he needed the soup at least.

While the soup heated Jimbo pulled a large envelope from beneath the counter and unwrapped the string from the closure. He was surprised to find only a few papers inside. Either his buddy over at records didn't look too hard for information or the file didn't contain much. Scanning the first page revealed some things he already knew. John Roderick Gage, 17 years old…

Reading some more he was surprised to find that the address on the kid's drivers license actually matched his "current" address, only it didn't if he was living on the streets…did it. 'What is your story John Roderick Gage? What happened to make you run away from home?'

The next section revealed that both parents were deceased and guardianship had been placed with the aunt and uncle, but the uncle had also passed. 'Man…you sure have had to face the loss of family for being so young.'

Jimbo stopped reading long enough to stir the soup. He was warming it slowly so it wouldn't scorch. It hadn't started to simmer yet, so he returned to the police record he had been reading. Turning the page to the arrest history section surprised him even more than the first page. He flipped through the few pages again to be sure he was seeing them correctly.

There was no record of criminal charges…there was however a rather detailed description of his time at a detention center for boys and how though he had not deserved to be there he was because no one else would take him after his parent's deaths. Jimbo felt angry that an innocent young boy had faced such discrimination simply because he had mixed blood. He crammed the papers back into the envelope and slammed it on the counter. "Unbelievable!" He said to the empty kitchen. He glanced at the envelope again. 'How could they do that to you and you not have any criminal history?'

He blew out a breath and shook his head. After thinking for a few minutes a small grin spread on his lips. 'There are many layers to you my friend. I hope you let me get to know you better, because I think you might surprise me even more than you already have.'

The bubbling coming from the pot of warming soup drew Jimbo's attention back to the task at hand. He stirred the simmering pot and turned off the heat. It would stay warm while he quickly prepared some sandwiches. Feeling better about helping the kid he whistled a happy tune as he worked.

A noise from the office caught his attention just as he had ladled up the second bowl. He looked over his shoulder and waited, listening. He heard it again… it was a soft moan followed by the creak of the cot. Jimbo put the bowl on the tray and hurried to the office to check on Johnny. When he slowly pushed the door open the light from the kitchen fell across the cot revealing Johnny tangled in the covers, his head tossing and turning, sweat beaded on his brow. He was clearly having some kind of bad dream. Jimbo got down on one knee beside the cot and started talking to the teen. "Hey…hey it's alright. You're safe now. They won't hurt you here." He began untangling the covers from around the long thin legs as he kept talking. "Come on kid. It's time to wake up and have some dinner. Can you do that?"

The tossing and shifting slowed. Jimbo kept up his litany of assurances. "Sh… you're okay. Whoever you're dreaming about can't hurt you now. I won't let them…okay. Come on…wake up for me." He smoothed the blanket and placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder, lightly shaking him. "John…"

Johnny stilled and squinted up at Jimbo.

"There you are. You were having a bad dream."

Johnny blinked a few times and looked around the office. Once he realized he was no longer in the place in his dreams he turned back to look at Jimbo.

"Do you need to get up?" Jimbo stood and backed away to give Johnny some room.

Johnny turned the covers back and stood slowly. His legs felt wobbly but he managed to take the few steps to the door and shuffled toward the bathroom without a word. Jimbo followed him to the kitchen and once he had seen that Johnny made it to the bathroom with no trouble he went back to finish putting their dinner on the tray. In a few minutes Johnny came back out of the bathroom.

"Feel better?" Jimbo asked.

"Yeah." Johnny said softly. His throat ached and he didn't feel much like talking.

"Do you think you can eat something? I have some more soup and sandwiches. We could eat at a table or if you don't feel like sitting up I can help you back in bed."

Johnny stopped in his trek back to the office, took a minute to consider the options, shrugged his shoulders and turned to follow Jimbo into the dining area. Jimbo spread the food on the table just as he would if he were serving a customer, and then waved Johnny to his seat.

"Thanks." Johnny said as he slid into the booth, but he didn't pick up his spoon or touch the sandwich. He just looked at them as though trying to decide whether to eat or not.

"What do you want to drink? Milk, a cola, tea?"

"Water would be okay." Johnny didn't want to ask for too much.

"You can have anything you want. How about some cola?" Jimbo turned toward the counter.

"Milk… can I have milk?" Johnny asked hesitantly.

"Milk it is." Jimbo said smiling. He scratched behind his ear as he rounded the end of the counter and grabbed a couple of glasses. He poured two glasses. Returning to the table he noticed Johnny had not touched his food. "Are you gonna eat or just look at it?"

Johnny looked up at Jimbo as he put the glasses on the table and slid into the booth. "My throat hurts. I'm not very hungry. I'm sorry."

"Try some soup. It's warm and might help your sore throat." He picked up his spoon and took a bite as if his actions might encourage Johnny to try. "It's good." He smiled. "Even if I did make it myself."

Johnny smiled and picked up his spoon. He took a small experimental bite. "Mmmm it is good." He took another bigger bite and reached for the glass of milk.

'Well at least you're eating.' Jimbo took a bite out of his sandwich. 'Now somehow I have to get you to tell me why you're on the street instead of back home with your aunt.'

Johnny put his spoon down and sighed after only a few bites.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to get out of your way." Johnny looked up at Jimbo. "Th..thank you f…for helping me." He turned to slide out of the booth. "And for the food. I'm sorry I can't eat much."

Jimbo stood quickly. "Now hold on just a minute. I thought we had this all straightened out earlier." He put his hand on Johnny's shoulder and kept him from getting up. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you leave here in your condition."

Johnny shifted beneath the strong grip Jimbo had on his slender shoulder.

"Sorry." Jimbo relaxed his grip but left his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "But I can't let you leave."

"I can go to the shelter. I have friends there. They're probably wondering where I've been."

"It's too late to go to the shelter."

Johnny looked around for a clock. He could see that it was dark outside. "What time is it?"

"It's after ten. The shelter closed their doors hours ago, so you're stuck here with me."

"Where will you sleep? I have your cot." Johnny said barely loud enough for Jimbo to hear him. "I need to leave."

"I have another cot. You're not leaving, at least not tonight. Tomorrow I can give you a lift back home."

Johnny's eyes widened. "Home? I don't…I can't…"

"Can't…go home? Why? Why can't you go home? Did something happen at home?"

Johnny sighed deeply and pushed up from the seat.

Jimbo kept his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Let me help you John. I want to help you."

Johnny stepped back and turned to face Jimbo. "Why?" He said loudly. Sadness mixed with anger washed over his face. "Why do you want to help me? What's in it for you? There's always some reason." He turned and paced on shaky legs. "Other than my aunt and uncle and he died. Why would anyone want to help me? They never have before unless they could benefit from it somehow, and I'm the one who suffered for that!"

"Take it easy…I'm not in it for anything. I'm a retired cop. I've seen too many kids go down from being on the streets, too many end up dead, too many serving time in prison from petty crimes that lead to terrible ones." Jimbo's voice raised too. "You're not like that…at least not yet. I won't let that happen to you."

"You don't even know me!" Johnny said with a softer tone.

"I know enough. You haven't asked me for a thing…not one thing. Any other street urch…uh…kid on the street would have been begging for more. That's enough for me to know there is still hope for you. Hope that if you let me I can help you. Let me help you John."

Johnny stared at Jimbo for a long time like he had that morning, thoughts warring in his mind over what to do. In his lifetime there had only been a few people he had ever trusted since his parents died, Officer Brewster, his aunt and eventually his uncle. He had made friends with a few people down at the shelter, because without them he felt like the other men would steal from him or try to take advantage of him, but those were just acquaintances…people he hung out with. Should he open himself up to another possible hurt? Should he trust this man who seemed to really want to be his friend? He had thought so this morning. He slowly nodded his head. "Okay."

Jimbo smiled broadly. "Okay?"

Johnny smiled, "Okay."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Johnny sighed deeply…then turned back toward the table. His little tirade had taken its toll. He suddenly felt very tired.

With renewed purpose Jimbo asked, "Do you want me to warm up your soup?" as he stepped closer to the table intending on getting the bowl.

Johnny slowly nodded his head and reached for the table. He felt weak in the knees. Jimbo immediately grabbed his arm which startled him, and he jerked away almost stumbling. "I…I don't want anymore."

"Hey, take it easy. You agreed to let me help you…remember?"

Johnny looked at Jimbo. Slowly he nodded.

"Then let me help you back to bed. Then I'll bring you some more aspirin."

"Okay." Johnny said softly. He felt Jimbo move over beside him and take him by the elbow while his other hand reached around his back. At first he tensed, but after a few seconds he relaxed and began moving toward the kitchen and his cot.

"Listen kid, I know those thugs beat the crap out of you last night, and I know there is more to your situation than you have told me about."

Johnny stopped and looked at Jimbo. 'How does he know? What does he know?'

Jimbo looked back at Johnny and chuckled. "Remember I'm a retired Cop. I have connections. Anyway…" He nudged Johnny to start moving again. "It's really none of my business unless you want to talk about it."

Just as they moved through the door to the kitchen they heard a loud crash and glass splintering across the dining area floor. Johnny felt himself being slammed down on the floor; the air rushing from his lungs as he heard Jimbo yell, "Get down."

A few seconds later the heavy weight of the older, heavier man lifted. "What the hell was that?" Jimbo said softly as he cracked open the door and peeked out. What he saw made him immediately jump to his feet. "Get out the back door! I'll call the fire department." He slipped through the door and quickly moved over to the phone behind the counter.

Johnny managed to get some air into his lungs. His already sore ribs now ached with renewed force. He rolled over on his side and saw smoke begin drifting beneath the swinging door. A sense of urgency swept over the young man. Forgetting his aches and tiredness, Johnny rose to his full height and peered through the round window. Glancing over his shoulder at the kitchen looking for something that he might use to snuff out the growing flames, his eyes settled on a fire extinguisher which he moved toward immediately pulling it from the holder on the wall.

Jimbo looked up from the phone as he gave directions to dispatch to see Johnny burst through the swaying doors armed with the fire extinguisher.

Johnny pulled the pin, and with the hose in his hand pointed and began spraying the contents over the flames, sweeping from side to side. It was a large extinguisher designed specifically for a professional kitchen, but he didn't know if it would be big enough. He hoped he might keep the flames from spreading beyond the accelerant that had been inside the beer bottle before the fabric that hung from the top had been lit with flame. The broken glass from the door mixed with the shards of brown glass that had shattered and slid across the smooth surface of the floor creating tendrils to extend the damage further into the room.

Johnny watched the flames as they danced across the splattered liquid…skipping from droplet to droplet and flitting down the paths of the spreading liquid, devouring every inch of life provided by the elixir. He moved along the length of the burning liquid as the flames moved. The sensation of power seeped through his veins as he worked to gain control. Determination to prevent destruction of the diner directed his every move.

Jimbo hung up the phone. Grabbing a broom, he began sweeping the glass toward the dwindling fire to keep it from spreading back toward him and the boy skillfully wielding the fire extinguisher.

Within minutes sirens could be heard approaching. A mixture of blue and red flashing lights bounced off the windows reflecting back into the night sky. Johnny had just about extinguished the fire and still stood over the charred tile with the large extinguisher in his hands. The earlier weakness forgotten, he felt a surge of energy and excitement about having practically put out the small fire.

What was left of the diner door opened and a man dressed in turnouts with a white striped helmet came in along with two other firemen dragging a hose. "Looks like we're not even needed here." The man with the white striped helmet said smiling at Johnny and Jimbo. "What happened here, Jimbo?"

Jimbo stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom while addressing the fire captain. "Hey, Captain McKonikee. Some neighborhood thugs decided to break my door out with a molotov cocktail. It doesn't look like they knew exactly how to make one though." He swept his arm across his damp forehead and looked at the damage before him.

"Well I guess that's lucky for you." Captain McKonikee chuckled. "Who's the kid? He looks like hell."

McKonikee's words brought Jimbo back from his worries about the damage, and he looked with pride at his charge. "That's my new friend John Gage. I suspect the thugs that did this are the ones who beat the crap out of him last night in my alley while stealing all of his money."

"Well whoever he is he did a good job putting out that fire."

Johnny blushed as Captain McKonikee looked at him. He backed away from the mess and before he realized it someone was taking the extinguisher from his hands. "You did good kid. Ever think about becoming a firefighter?" Johnny looked at the man with interest. "I think you're a natural." The man gripped his shoulder. "But you can relax now and let the professionals finish up."

Johnny moved back a little more and Jimbo walked up beside him. "Thank you John."

"What?" Johnny asked him. "I didn't do nothin'…just sprayed the extinguisher on it." He shrugged.

"Who taught you to do that?" Jimbo wondered. Knowing how to use a fire extinguisher was not something that everyone knew how to do.

"Back at the center, all of the older kids were taught how to use one in case of a fire. It's no big deal." The attention he was getting made him nervous. He was relieved when a police officer came in and came over to get a report from Jimbo.

"Jimbo?" The tall black officer said the greeting with a questioning tone. "What happened here?" He waved his notepad at the charred spot.

"Hey Vince, some street kids trying to make a statement." Jimbo commented with disgust as he shook hands with the officer.

Johnny didn't like the idea of the police being there. He knew they had to come and get a statement from Jimbo, but he didn't want to be a part of any questions by the authorities. He backed away from the group and slipped into the kitchen.

Part of him wanted to escape out the back door, while another part of him wanted to stay and watch the firemen work. He looked back out the windows to the red truck. The red flashing lights were mesmerizing; the way the men worked together impressive. One of the men stood beside the truck making adjustments on a panel of controls. He reached down and lifted the small hose the men were using to wash down the still smoking tile and wall. Johnny watched the man look over his shoulder at the men inside thinking it must be his job to make sure the water pressure is enough to fill the hose. Suddenly their eyes met and the fireman smiled at Johnny who immediately diverted his eyes and moved further into the darkened room.

The weariness that had plagued him earlier seemed to be slowly returning as Johnny stood in the dark watching. His throat felt scratchy from breathing the smoke. His head began to ache again. When the firemen began pulling the hose back out of the diner he turned and made his way back to the office where he could lay down, leaving Jimbo to handle the rest. Sleep claimed him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Red flashing lights and men dressed in turnouts fighting fires filtered into this dreams.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Johnny awoke several hours later to the sound of soft snores in the cot next to his. Accustomed to sleeping in a room with others, having spent much of his childhood in the correctional facility and now spending many of his nights in the men's shelter, he listened to Jimbo's deep breathing hoping he could lull himself back to sleep, but that wasn't to be, not after sleeping away most of the day trying to recover from the mugging last night. After quietly listening to the night sounds around him for what seemed like forever, Johnny gave up on sleep and slowly shifted on the cot until his feet touched the floor. Stifling a deep cough, he tiptoed from the office, gently closed the door and leaned against the wall listening for any noise from the sleeping man. When he didn't hear anything he pushed off the wall and started across the room careful to go around the chopping station.

The kitchen was mostly dark, but the Exit sign by the back door cast a red glow that gave him enough light to make his way toward the dining room and the damage left behind by his so-called friends. He knew it had been the same kids that had mugged him that tried to burn the diner down. He didn't know why except Jimbo had helped him. He shuddered to think he had been the cause of Jimbo's almost losing the diner. When the sun came up he would need to move on.

The windows in the dining area allowed the street lights to shine across the floor letting Johnny see the darkened spot left behind by the fire which only served to fuel the guilt burning in his gut. He could still smell the scorched tile; reaching up he tried to rub the odor from his nose thinking he would never get rid of that stench.

He stood staring at the charred floor trying to think of how he could repay Jimbo for taking him in.

After looking around the semi lit room unable to think of anything else to do, Johnny set out to find some cleaning materials. Maybe if he could clean up some of the soot and smell Jimbo could still open the diner for business. He rubbed his nose again thinking the smell would be the hardest thing to get rid of.

When he came back with a bucket full of hot bleach water, a mop and scrub brush, Johnny thought he saw movement outside in the street. Anger swept over him. Reflexively, he reached up and carefully felt of his face near the eye that had been previously swollen shut. It still felt very tender and swollen, but at least he could open it now. He ran his tongue over his lips. They still stung in places where they were split but they weren't puffy like before. The shadow he'd seen scampered beneath the street light letting him know that his anger was wasted on a cat.

"Hey Pete, check that out." Jim Reed pointed at the group of boys crouched in the alley across from Jimbo's diner. "Didn't Mac say somethin' about a disturbance at Jimbo's last night? Break in or something."

Without a word, Pete Malloy flipped off the headlights and pulled the black and white over between two cars parked at the curb. The two officers settled in to watch the boys.

Rita pulled into the alley at the back of the diner. That door was closer to the kitchen; she wanted to unload some things from her trunk. She hadn't noticed the boarded up front. She smiled to herself as she opened the heavy metal door and found the kitchen still dark. "Hey Jimbo!" She called softly so as not to wake up the kid she suspected to still be fast asleep. She propped open the door and proceeded inside and flipped on the lights. The office door was closed. "Jimbo? Are you still asleep?" She asked as she cracked open the door. The light from the kitchen allowed her to see the empty cot where she thought Johnny would still be sleeping. Jimbo squinted up at her. "Better get up, boss. We have a lot to do before the breakfast crowd gets here." He groaned and rolled over covering his head with the pillow. Rita ducked out of the office to give him a minute, and went in search of the boy.

Johnny had scrubbed the walls, the tables, the counter and the chairs, but most importantly he had managed to reduce the black stain on the floor to a smaller area where the fire had been the hottest; there the floor was burnt beyond repair. Wearily he had returned the scrub brush to the bucket, propped the mop against the wall and slid into one of the booths to rest his head on the table; that is where he was when Rita found him.

Upon walking into the dining area and seeing the boarded up door and charred spot on the floor, Rita gasped in surprise. Then she saw Johnny with his head resting on his crossed arms sound asleep. Black smudges decorated his face and arms. Clearly the boy had been trying to clean up. She smiled realizing Jimbo had been right about him.

"So what do you think we should do?" The rookie cop asked.

Pete shot a sideways glance at his new partner, but didn't make any attempt at a reply.

"I mean why would a bunch of kids be out this early unless they were up to something?" Jim looked at his superior and waited for his response.

Pete rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be watching them to find out."

Jim turned back to watching the boys.

The seasoned officer let out an exasperated sigh and resumed his watch.

The group of boys moved across the street and slipped into the alley behind Jimbo's.

"That's our cue." Pete said as he slipped from the cruiser and carefully closed the door with barely an audible click.

Jim clamored out of the cruiser, then jumped for the door-handle, barely managing to catch his door before it slammed closed. He winced at the loud snick, and then flushed with embarrassment when Pete turned his head to glare at him.

The boys stopped dead, but when they didn't hear any other noise they hurried down the alley toward the open door.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The boys ducked into the back door to the diner just as Pete and Jim reached the place where the alley met the main road. "Should we take them now?" Jim whispered.

"Not yet. For now we follow them…see what they're up to." Pete led the way to the same door the boys had just gone through.

Once inside the boys moved quickly around the room in search of something to eat. They had been watching Johnny cleaning up the mess they had created with their little surprise last night, so they knew he was there somewhere as was the guy that owned the place. The smallest in the group bumped against a pan that rattled noisily when it hit the one hanging next to it.

"Keep it down!" One of the others whispered harshly.

Jimbo heard voices in the kitchen…voices he didn't recognize. He rose slowly to a seated position and swung his feet to the floor careful not to make any noise.

Rita heard a noise in the kitchen and thinking it was Jimbo she smiled at the sleeping young man before turning to quietly walk to the swinging door that led back the way she had come. "Shhh…Jimbo, Johnny's…." Her words died on her lips when she came face to face with several angry teens. Instead of finishing the sentence a soft gasp escaped as she moved backwards into the center of the dining area.

Something woke him, but he wasn't sure what it was. Johnny raised his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When his vision cleared his mouth fell open at the sight before him. The same group of guys that had taken his money and had tried to burn down Jimbo's diner were closing in on Rita. He leapt to his feet and quickly moved to put himself between them.

"Well if it isn't Johnny Gage." The ringleader taunted, but that didn't slow Johnny down. "What do you think you're gonna do, boy?"

"Leave 'er alone!" Johnny said as he pushed his back against Rita hoping she would step back out of harm's way.

"You think you can take all four of us boy?"

Jimbo had eased into the kitchen and stood near the window in the door to see what was going on. He didn't know if the boys had any weapons or not, so he was being careful. The last thing he wanted was for Rita or Johnny to get hurt or killed.

Pete and Jim had reached the open door and now stood on either side with their backs to the brick wall. Pete pulled his gun from the holster and unlocked the safety. Jim followed his lead and did the same. With guns raised they stepped quickly into the kitchen making a sweep.

"Whoa guys it 's just me!" Jimbo whispered with his hands raised.

Pete lowered his gun. When Jim hesitated Pete put his hand on the top of Jim's pistol and lowered it for him. "It's okay…he's a friend…it's his place."

Jimbo moved over beside the two officers. "There's at least four of them. Looks like teens. Don't know if they're armed or not. I'm pretty sure they're the ones who tried to torch the place last night."

The boys spread out to circle around Johnny and Rita. Not wanting them to get behind them where he couldn't watch them, Johnny stepped back practically pushing Rita to the wall. She stumbled a bit, and he reached his hand back for her. She used his arm to regain her footing.

"Look at you, boy…such a do gooder. Why are you helping that old hag anyway?" One of the boys stepped up and pushed Johnny's shoulder. Another stepped up on the other side and shoved him into Rita who was now against the wall. "S..s..sorry." Johnny stood up straighter and took a few steps away from her. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure she was alright. She nodded at his unspoken question. Before he could turn back to face their attackers, he was slapped hard across the face. He stumbled, his hand reflexively cradling his jaw.

Jimbo, who had returned to the window in the kitchen door almost burst into the room after Johnny's head rebounded from the hard blow, but Pete grabbed his arm. "We still don't know if they're armed. We won't let it go too far, but we need to be careful."

"It's already gone too far." Jimbo declared through gritted teeth. "They already mugged him in the alley, and tried to burn down the diner. What the hell do they want?"

"They're street thugs, Jimbo. You know that. What do they want? Who knows! Probably for their parents to care…to come find them and take them back home or if their parents are no longer alive…for someone to come and take them in…give them a home. That's what they really want…a home."

"I know Pete, but that boy out there that they are attacking…he wants the same thing, but thinks it's too much to ask for. He's had a hard life. Harder than most anyone could imagine, but he's not trying to take it. He's trying to earn it. I can't just stand here and let them break him. I won't."

"You're not a cop anymore, Jimbo. Let us handle this." Pete put a hand on Jimbo's shoulder and squeezed. He raised his handgun again and nodded to Jim. "Ready?" Jim raised his gun at the ready and together they slipped into the room while the thugs were distracted by Johnny and Rita. Jimbo hurried over to the office and pulled out the center desk drawer. He grabbed some keys and bent over to the bottom desk drawer unlocking it and pulling out the pistol he kept there for emergencies. He might not be a cop anymore, but he still had the skills and training from the academy behind him. He planned on being ready if he needed to use them. He deftly loaded the gun and went back to wait by the kitchen door.

Another blow sent Johnny to the floor and left Rita to the hands of the thugs. "Come on baby….let's have some fun." Rita screamed and tried to pull away.

"Freeze!" Pete yelled above the fray. "Hands in the air!"

Everything happened fast. Three of the four stopped and raised their hands, but the fourth pulled a gun from somewhere and aimed it at Johnny. "You freeze Pig! Or he gets it."

Johnny stared up at the barrel of a small pistol.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Johnny's stare at the pistol didn't waver, but his mind raced with thoughts.

Memories of hunting with his father flashed; the popping noise guns made as the firing hammer struck sending the shell from its chamber and then the whizzing of the bullet slicing through the air toward the target…the victim.

He almost raised his hands to his ears in a reflex of his childhood actions to block out the thump of contact and gasp of terror as the projectile pierced flesh and ripped a deep hot trail of death. His thin frame shuddered as the echo of life's breath escaping the dying seemed to envelope his mind.

He despised guns. He had known even as a small boy that to bring food to the table, sometimes a gun was needed, but he preferred a bow and arrow or knife. Somehow they seemed more humane…less violent.

His eyes tracked from the pistol to the crazed eyes of the boy holding it and sorrow gripped his heart. Sorrow for the deep sadness he could see beyond the rage. Sorrow for the lost childhood and hope for a productive life. Sorrow for those around the two of them that would have to see the bullet pierce flesh…his flesh and rip through his body, because there was no way he would let him aim that gun at anyone else…unless of course he was dead.

Death didn't worry him though. If he died right there in Jimbo's diner, he could join his parents. He had been taught that the spirit never dies, but lives on.

Johnny slowly began to stand with his hands out; palms facing forward in a non-threatening way like his father had taught him when approaching a wounded animal.

"What are you doing?" the gun waved in his face and pointed back to his chest.

He didn't speak, but just continued up… moving slowly, cautiously while never breaking eye contact. He had to get on his feet. On his feet he could take action.

"Stop you idiot! I'll shoot! I will!"

Now on his feet he stood with his hands still outstretched; his face an emotionless mask. His father had taught him that others could read you by the emotion you showed on your face, so in order to maintain the element of surprise he had to learn to control what he showed. Johnny did well with schooling his features into a blank canvass, but his dad always said his eyes gave him away. To prevent his attacker from reading his eyes, Johnny diverted them to the pistol.

"You got a death wish boy?"

Johnny didn't move…didn't respond. He just stood…palms out…eyes down.

He shifted his eyes to see where the two policemen were and hoped they would do something fast when he made his move. The older man met his gaze for a second before Johnny looked back at the pistol again. He took a deep breath slowly through his nose and let it out through his slightly open mouth. Time seemed to stand still.

After several breaths he sidestepped toward the door and the police officers. "I'll go with you." He said softly.

"No…Johnny no." Rita reached out toward Johnny.

"Shut up! Both of you…just shut up! And you," He pointed toward Johnny. "Stop…don't move another inch. Do you hear me! Another inch and…" He raised the gun toward Johnny's head. "Bang…bang. You get me?"

Johnny stepped again, but then stopped. He had moved away from Rita, and that was his plan all along.

"Listen, we don't want anyone to get hurt here. You're in trouble, but don't make it worse on yourself. Just put the gun down." Pete tried to reason with the boy.

"Sure…just put the gun down and let you haul me to jail. No worries right? Are you crazy? I know what happens in prison, and I ain't goin' there."

Suddenly, Johnny lunged for the gun. He grabbed it, pushing it up toward the ceiling. The two boys shuffled and the gun moved up; then down and up again. A loud pop pierced the air followed by Rita's scream, and everyone held their breaths not knowing what the bullet had hit.

Pete and Jim dove into the fray to pull the boys apart and try to get the gun before another shot could be made. The other boys saw an opportunity to run and started toward the kitchen door when Jimbo stepped from behind the counter. "Freeze!" They stopped in their tracks and raised their hands. "Get down on the floor…hands behind your heads… and don't move."

Jim pulled the perp off of Johnny and slammed him face down on the floor pulling his hands behind his back and quickly cuffing him. Pete had gotten his hands on the pistol and moved it out of reach.

It all happened so fast that Johnny felt dazed and confused. His ears rang from being so close to the gun. Sweat made tracks through the dirt still on his face from his earlier cleaning efforts, but he felt chilled to the bone.

Rita dove for the young man who had risked his life to save hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back from the cuffed boy even though she knew he couldn't hurt them anymore. Johnny felt himself being pulled back. He ached all over and felt exhausted…again. He sunk into the arms that held him, to rest.

Pete moved over to Johnny to check him for injury. "Are you okay?" He asked Rita who nodded. "What about him? Did he get shot?" He asked as he moved Johnny's arms and checked him for injury. "I think he's okay."

"Johnny?" Rita asked. "Sweetie…"

Johnny looked up at Pete. "'m okay." He rubbed his ear again.

"Ringing?" Pete asked.

"Yeah…hate that. It'll go away. Always does."

"You been close to guns before?" Pete smiled.

"Hunting with my dad…before…before he…he died." Johnny's face showed no emotion, but Pete could see such sadness in his brown eyes that he immediately felt his throat constrict and his eyes tear up. He blinked away the tears. "I hate guns." Johnny said softly then laid his head on Rita's arm. He just wanted to sleep.

Sirens could be heard approaching for the second time in less than 24 hours. Jimbo had called for reinforcements. Blue strobes flashed through the front windows of the diner announcing the arrival of more police. Jimbo unlocked what was left of the front door now made partly of wood to let them in, and in short order the would be thieves were herded into the backs of the patrol cars and whisked away.

"Johnny…" Jimbo knelt down next to Rita who still sat in the floor cradling the exhausted boy. "Can you get up?" Johnny squinted up at his new friend and started moving slowly. He hurt all over. Jimbo reached out to help him. Rita got to her feet as well. Together they managed to get Johnny up and moving toward a booth. "Sit down over here and let me check you out."

"I'm okay. Just tired."

"Sure you are." Rita chuckled. "Your face is a mess." Johnny smiled back at her. He was relieved that she wasn't hurt. He remembered that she had children and hadn't wanted her children to lose their mother as he had at such a young age. He sunk bonelessly into the booth. "You wait right here. I'll get some warm water to clean you up a bit, and then you need to get back in that cot in Jimbo's office." She pushed the bangs from his face. "You feel warm. I'll get you some aspirin too."

Jimbo sat down opposite Johnny. "You sure you're okay?"

Johnny coughed. "Well...not really…I mean I've been beat up…robbed…rained on… had a fire bomb thrown at me and a gun pointed in my face… but yeah. I survived. I'm fine."

"Well you look like hell!" Jimbo leaned back and laughed at his new friend. "But seriously, thank you."

Johnny looked down at the table. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for? You're the one who made the move that got the gun away from that nut case, and kept Rita safe."

"But you helped me first." Johnny looked around the room, at the burnt tile, the boarded up entrance and up at the new hole in the ceiling where the bullet had left a darkened spot around a ragged hole.

Jimbo followed Johnny's eyes until his own settled on the new mark on his ceiling. "So that's where it went." He looked back at Johnny who now looked across the table at him. "I am glad I could help you Johnny. Very glad to call you friend."

"Me too." Rita chimed in from where she had come back into the room with a bowl of water and several clean rags. "Very glad to call you friend." She walked over and placed the bowl on the table. "And now let's get you cleaned up and back in bed. Jimbo and I have a lot of work to do if we are going to be open by lunch today."

"Open?" Jimbo asked with a voice laced with doubt.

"Yes open." Rita put her hand on her hip. "You wouldn't let all his hard work cleaning up go to waste would you? I mean think of the stories you'll get to tell the customers. Why I would bet the place will fill up with people who are dying to know what really happened here. And if that brings them in, then we will be happy to take their money. We have a floor and a door to repair, and the quicker we get that paid for the better. Right?" She put her hand on Johnny's chin, gently raised his face toward the light and began erasing all traces of the terrible night they'd had.

"And a ceiling." Jimbo mumbled as he slid from the booth and headed toward the kitchen to start prepping.

"A ceiling?" Rita asked.

Johnny pointed up at the hole.

"And a ceiling." She repeated.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The warm water and tender way Rita washed his face reminded Johnny of his mother's soft touch. He had been a rambunctious toddler; finding trouble wherever he played, a bee sting, a rusty nail, anything that could scratch, stab or poke seemed to be right where he wanted to be. Things hadn't changed much. A slight smile spread across his face as he relaxed a little more with each brush of the warm cloth across his face and neck.

Johnny could hear Jimbo chuckle, and he cracked open one eye to see what was so funny. Jimbo was looking at him. "What's so funny?"

"You kid…you are."

Johnny squinted at his new friend.

Rita swatted at Jimbo with the wet cloth. "Leave him alone, Jimbo!" She admonished. "The boy's had a hard time."

Jimbo straightened and sobered from his laughter. "He's had a rough time? I've had a fire bomb thrown at me, a gun pointed at me and my diner…my poor diner is barely inhabitable!" His hand lashed out at the damage.

Instinctively, Johnny ducked. Jimbo's arm moved just over his head. The arm he had leaning on the table slid outward knocking into the bowl of water sending it skidding to the edge of the table and teetering half in mid air as the three watched in stunned silence. Before any of them could react, the bowl toppled to the floor spilling water across the clean floor. The loud splash of water and clanking roll of the metal mixing bowl echoed in the silence.

Seconds later the silence was again broken as Johnny, Rita and Jimbo burst into fits of laughter. The tension leaving their bodies as they laughed until they cried…or coughed in Johnny's case.

"Um...I...I mean.." Johnny coughed out; the smell of smoke, soot and cleaning fluids from his clothes reminding him of all the events of the last 24 hours.

"What's wrong, Johny?" Rita bathed his face and neck one more time.

"I...Uh...wh...where are my clothes?" Johnny asked shyly, his brown eyes looking from beneath his long lashes.

"Oh sweetheart, they're in my car. I washed everything for you. They were so wet and dirty."

Johnny immediately turned red. "You didn't have to do that. I could've done that at the laundry mat."

"Nonsense, I just threw them in my boy's things. It was no problem...no problem at all." Rita smiled to him. "I bet you would like to clean up some. Jimbo, help him to the restroom while I get his things from the car. That's why I parked in the alley to begin with." Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh my… the groceries!"

Johnny stood up...a bit wobbly. "I can help."

Jimbo grabbed his elbow to steady him. "I have a better idea. Why don't you help him to the bathroom, and I'll get the things from the car. We don't know how safe it is out there or if those thugs had accomplices waiting in the alley."

Realizing what he had just said and how parking in the alley had given those teens a way into the diner, Rita's face paled and she looked toward the kitchen with trepidation. "You don't think..."

Jimbo held up his hand. "No I don't, but I would rather you stay inside where it's safe." He patted her arm; she reached out to steady Johnny.

Johnny pulled his arm away and said too abruptly, "I can do it."

"Sure you can sweetie. How about I just walk along with you...just in case you need me?" She winked at Jimbo who coughed to disguise the chuckle that threatened to escape. They both had come to realize how fiercely independent Johnny wanted to be.

After cleaning up and getting into some of his own clothes, Johnny felt more like himself. When he came out, Rita and Jimbo were busy getting ready to open for lunch.

"Jimbo, the ice maker is on the fritz again." Rita said as she hoisted the pan she had just filled for the front ice bin.

"I'll check it is a minute." He continued slicing the onions he'd been working on.

Johnny quietly walked over and opened the side of the machine where the motor was. He looked around for a tool box, found one in the corner nearby, pulled out a couple of tools, unplugged the machine and started to work. In a few minutes he had the machine plugged back in and whirring like a top. When he looked up he noticed Jimbo and Rita smiling at him.

"I don't know how you did that, but there is no telling how much money you just saved me on a repairman. Thank you."

Johnny shrugged, returned the tools to the box and closed the lid. "My uncle taught me." The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. "He taught me a lot before…before he died." The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "Do you need any help?"

Unable to stop the tears that beaded up in the corners of her eyes, Rita hurried back into the dining room dabbing at her eyes with her apron. "Guess I'll open up now."

"Everything's ready for the lunch crowd. Why don't you try to get a little shut eye?" Jimbo's voice sounded a bit gravely. He cleared his throat and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. "Darned onions."

Johnny nodded. His feet did feel like lead weights. He shuffled toward the office and his temporary bed. "Ok, then I'll get out of your way."

Jimbo sighed loudly, "I thought we had agreed that you would let me help you."

Johnny looked up. "I did…you have, but…"

"But what, Johnny, you are not going anywhere today…okay? Tomorrow, we'll talk again. I know I have no right to keep you here, but I can't just let you walk out of here barely able to protect yourself. What if those kids had friends? If word got out you helped the police with their capture…" He closed his eyes and slowly turned his head from side to side. "I don't even want to think about what might happen. So, we'll take things one day at a time. When you feel strong enough you are free to go." Johnny started to protest, but Jimbo's hand went up to stop him. "You are welcome here as long as you need it. No arguments." Jimbo turned back to the prep table. He had to figure out a way to keep the kid there for a few days, and he had to think fast. He turned back to Johnny who was still standing in the same spot with his mouth open. "How about you rest and then later…after the dinner rush, you can help me clean up."

Johnny's mouth closed and he nodded. Jimbo watched as he slowly made his way into the office and closed the door before letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Well kid…I guess I'll have to find more things for you to fix. That way you can 'earn' your keep." He said to the empty room as he scratched his ear. "Humph… Never saw a kid so bent on fending for himself."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Johnny crawled into the makeshift bed and pulled the covers close. He felt achy and chilled to the bone, maybe from the cold he obviously had, or maybe from the deep regret for all the trouble he had caused. How could his camping out in the alley have brought on so much trouble for these nice people?

He lay curled up in the cot thinking over the past couple of days. Those thoughts led his mind back to the boy's facility. Trouble always seemed to find him there and had somehow followed him here. What had he done to bring trouble? He tried to remember, but nothing came to mind. He didn't remember doing anything bad…he never did, not then or now; yet things always turned out bad for him.

He turned over and stared at the file cabinet on the wall. Thoughts of losing his parents; then walking into that horrible boy's detention center and the foster homes he fought to escape from drifted through his memories. Then when he thought trouble might have finally found a new home…trouble struck again when his uncle died.

Silent tears trickled from his eyes, sliding down and dampening the pillow. The deep sadness he lived with daily tightened its grip on his heart, and he slipped into a fitful sleep.

Jimbo didn't mean to drop the cookie sheet. The tray clattered against the prep table and bounced on the floor sending loud noises echoing across the room. The normal sounds of a busy diner silenced for a few seconds before chuckles could be heard from the patrons at the clumsiness of the kitchen help. Then the clinking of silverware against glass plates began again. But in the seconds of silence, Jimbo heard a yelp and more clattering and scraping from his office. He hurried over and opened the door. The light from the kitchen shown on the over turned cot and across to Johnny's huddled form in the far corner between the wall and the file cabinet.

Jimbo bent down and righted the cot. Careful to move slowly and speak softly he stepped toward Johnny. "Sorry about that, Johnny. I didn't mean to scare you. I dropped a tray." There was no sound from the corner. He couldn't tell if Johnny was holding his breath or not. He continued over and extended his hand. "Come on."

Johnny looked up from beneath his bangs, and tentatively reached for Jimbo's hand so he could help him up. He realized that he did trust the man, and that felt good. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"For what? If I hadn't known what that noise was, after the day we've had, I would have been startled too."

"Acted like a baby." Johnny said softly.

"Listen kid, you acted more bravely than some of the officers on the force when you protected Rita earlier." He tapped Johnny's chest. "That kind of courage comes from here." Then he tapped Johnny's head. "Fear comes from here, and you can learn to control that. Being startled after a loud noise…well, that can happen to anyone." Jimbo shrugged. "Someday I'll tell you about being scared after some pretty hairy situations while I was on the force, but right now I think you might want to eat something. I have to get back to the kitchen."

"It's okay…I'm not really hungry."

Jimbo reached for Johnny's forehead, but he ducked away. Jimbo backed up and held his hands out in surrender."Okay, either you're really getting sick or you're worried about payment for the food." Johnny's mouth fell open and his eyes got big. "You know I was a teenager once. " Jimbo chuckled. "I don't remember ever not being hungry, and as to payment…I have two sinks packed full of dirty pots, pans and dishes waiting for you after you eat. So, either you eat now or after you finish washing, but you will eat. You need to keep up your strength so your body can heal. You choose…before or after." Jimbo turned toward the kitchen. "Oh yeah…Rita has a huge slice of fresh apple pie with your name on it waiting beside the biggest ham sandwich I've ever seen." He laughed as he walked out of the room.

Johnny smiled. "Apple pie?"

"A big slice!" Jimbo teased.

"Well…maybe I will eat a little." His stomach growled. His eyes met Jimbo's and he shrugged. Jimbo's smile grew. "But then I'll get right on those dishes."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Rita saw the exchange through the window between the kitchen and the dining area. She held her breath, hoping Johnny would agree to the "job" Jimbo had planned for him. It was the first step towards them being allowed to continue helping him after today. When Johnny agreed she let the air out in a whoosh and couldn't help the smile that stretched across her face. She also couldn't stop the tears of relief and joy the involuntarily slipped from her eyes.

"Excuse me, miss."

She turned from the window just in time to avoid meeting Johnny's eyes. "Yes, may I help you?" On the other side of the counter stood a very tall, slender man who could have passed for Abe Lincoln. He wore a fireman's uniform.

"I was on the crew that responded to a fire here last night."

"Oh…thank you for getting the fire out!"

He splayed his hand on his chest. "We didn't. I mean we made sure it was out, but there was a kid here that did most of it. I wanted to check on him to see if he was alright. We…uh…he…um...I can't believe he knew what to do! He'd make a hell of a…sorry…a great fireman.

Rita smiled. Pride swelled at the things the man said about Johnny. "Well it just so happens, Captain…"

"I'm no Captain…" He blushed. "Engineer…I'm the engineer. I just drive the rig and operate the pumps. I'm not the Captain."

"Really? You look like a Captain. Anyway…um Mr. Engineer, I'm Rita. The kid is doing okay. As a matter of fact he's right here in the kitchen. I'll get Johnny for you."

Hank held up his hand. "No, that's okay…I just wanted to make sure. He looked like he might have been hurt. My name is Hank…Uh…Henry." He smiled at her.

"He was mugged in the alley the night before the fire. In fact we had never seen him before Jimbo found him out there in the alley, soaking wet and hurt. It was the kids that mugged him that started the fire."

"Why?" Hank asked.

"I guess they were angry that Jimbo was trying to help Johnny. We are still trying to figure that out. But, they are in custody now, so maybe we'll get some answers."

"Good. I'm glad. We need to get arsonists off the streets. If there is anything the fire department can do to help the charges stick…"

"Well actually it was the break in and hostage situation they were arrested for. Oh and the gun."

Hank's eyes got big. "Hostage situation…gun?"

Rita giggled. It was easy to joke about now that the thugs were in custody. Maybe it was a healing reflex. "Yep…Hostage situation. The three of us, Jimbo, Johnny and me were held at gunpoint this morning by the same thugs that hurt Johnny and tried to burn this place down."

"Wow!" Hank declared as he scratched the back of his head. "Then why are you open?"

Rita thought about that very question for a second. Then she answered. "Well, we can't let horrible people like that shut us down or stop us from living…can we?" She didn't know if she was trying to convince Hank or herself. "Besides that boy…young man in there needs to see that he has to go on. I think maybe he already has, but he has to face whatever life throws at him. We can't shy away from adversity. We can't hide from violence. It is everywhere…all around us."

"Yes it is. I'm glad Johnny has people he can look up to. You said he was mugged? Where does he live? Where is his family?"

"We aren't sure, but we think he may be a runaway. His driver's license is local, but he begged us not to call anyone; begged not to go to the hospital. He even threatened to leave even though he could barely stand" Rita smiled at Johnny's strength of character.

"Where will he stay?"

"He's sleeping on a cot in the office for now. After that…I don't know." Rita didn't know why he felt so comfortable sharing all of this with Hank, but he seemed to bring out a trusting calmness in her. He was an excellent listener, and she needed to talk about everything that had happened. "Excuse me just a minute." She went to fill coffee cups for several tables and see if anyone needed anything.

Hank glanced into the kitchen and watched as Johnny started on a huge stack of dirty dishes.

"Can I get you some coffee or something?" Rita asked as she slipped back behind the counter and returned the coffee carafe to the burner.

"No thank you. My fiancée is waiting in the car. I have to be going. I'm glad the kid…uh, Johnny, is doing okay." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brochure. "Would you please give this to Johnny? It's information about the LA County Fire Department training academy. What the qualifications are and how to apply." Hank shrugged. "We all thought he was a natural."

"Sure, I'd be glad to." Rita took the flyer. "Nice to meet you, Henry."

Hank stood to leave, pulling his well worn fire department baseball cap from his back pocket, started to put it on and stopped. He looked at the cap…turned it this way and that; then he smiled. "Give him this too."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Rita watched the lanky man as he exited the diner running his hand through his hair as though he were worried about how it looked without his ball cap. She smiled.

Johnny pushed through the swinging kitchen door with a load of clean coffee cups.

"Let me help you." Rita laid the cap and brochure on the counter.

Johnny turned slightly, "I've got it. Where do they go?"

Rita had to stop herself from giggling. Johnny was so independent. She stepped forward to direct him. "The glasses go there and the plates under the counter, these get stacked beside the coffee maker."

Johnny stepped over to the counter space beside the coffee maker and hoisted the cup trays up and over the edge. Then he turned and disappeared through the door only to return again with the glasses. Rita leaned against the counter and watched him make two more trips. When he came through the door one last time she was waiting for him with a tall glass of soda. Johnny turned it up and drained the glass, "Thanks," he said as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Here let me get you some more." She reached for the glass. Johnny smiled. He was thirsty. "Try slowing down a bit though. You don't want to be sick." She smiled. Johnny blushed. When she turned back to her task of wiping the counter tops she noticed the cap and brochure, "Oh I almost forgot a fireman brought you this for you."

Johnny looked at her with a trace of alarm. "A… a f… fireman?" he stuttered. "Why?"

"Well, he said he and his friends that came to put out the fire thought you were a natural."

"A natural?" Johnny couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, sweetie, that's what he said." She again reached out with the hat. "Take it… it's yours."

Johnny slowly reached out and took the cap.

"He left this brochure for you too. He thought you might want to look into the fire academy."

They were so involved in their conversation that neither Johnny nor Rita noticed Jimbo had come to stand at the kitchen doors and was watching them.

Johnny looked up at her with sadness. "I already tried. They wouldn't take me. They said I was too young. I told them my aunt would say it was okay, but they just said no." He looked back at the cap, ran his fingers across the bill. He turned it this way and that admiring the letters on the front, and the way the bill was curled just so. It was an old cap, well worn, but it was clear it had meant a lot to the man who wore it.

Rita leaned in closer he was speaking so softly she almost couldn't hear him. She watched as he admired the ball cap. He held it so carefully, like a prized treasure. "Sweetie," she put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him, "they said you were too young then. Let me see that brochure." She took it back and opened it, reading it quickly. "It says here you have to be eighteen. Won't you turn eighteen on your next birthday?"

Johnny pulled away from her hug and grabbed the tri folded paper. "It does?" He read quickly. "I do!"

"Then as soon as you turn eighteen you can sign up." Rita smiled.

As quickly as he had become excited, Johnny returned to the saddened boy. "But I need a job now. I don't have anywhere… uh. I need to earn some money. I mean I cut yards and it pays okay, but not enough to get a pl… uh not enough. My birthday is months away."

Jimbo slipped back into the kitchen unnoticed. He'd heard enough.

"Well then we will just have to find you a better job until your birthday." She ruffled his hair. "Now we have work to do right here." She turned back to the counter and finished cleaning. When she noticed Johnny had gone back to looking at the cap and brochure, she used her apron to wipe away the moisture that had pooled in the corner of her eyes.

Johnny ran his finger alone the seams of the cap and once again turned the cap this way and that before placing it on his head. Then he curled the brochure and shoved it in his back pocket. He looked up at Rita. His smile disappeared, and he pulled the cap back off. His aunt had taught him to take off his hat when he was inside. It was rude to wear a hat indoors.

"Put it back on Johnny. Someone taught you some manners didn't they? It's okay this time." She winked at him. He returned the cap to his head and a grin spread across his face that reached his eyes and seemed to make them sparkle. With a little more spring in his step he pushed through the kitchen doors to go ask Jimbo what he needed to do next.

"Hey kid, I need to run down to the corner grocery. Do you think you feel up to helping Rita until I get back?" Jimbo asked as he made sure the burners on the grill were turned off.

"Yes sir. I can do that."

Jimbo smiled at the politeness. "Good. I won't be long, and the dinner crowd hasn't started yet, so it should be okay. Just help her make drinks, clean tables. Okay?"

"Yes sir." Johnny grabbed a bin to bus the tables with and went back to the dining area.

"Rita, I'm going down to the corner grocery. I'll be right back. Can you handle things?"

"What do you need at the store? I got everything you had on the list." Rita raised an eyebrow in question.

"Uh, I need something… um, something I forgot to put on the list." Jimbo winked at her and leaned his head toward Johnny.

Rita smiled, "Ooooh. Okay, we'll hold down the fort. Won't we Johnny?" Johnny glanced up from cleaning a table and nodded.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Jimbo wasn't gone long. His first stop at the corner grocery had taken less time than he had thought it would. Convincing Mr. Wong that he needed some help, at least someone to bag groceries and help little old ladies to their cars, was easier than he thought it would be. Telling him he had the perfect candidate for the job and that Johnny wouldn't take it as a handout took a bit more explaining. He would call Mr. Wong in the morning after he asked Johnny to run down to the store so he could put the Help Wanted sign in the window in time for him to see it. Hopefully Johnny would take the bait and ask about the job.

His next stop was at the apartments down the block. They were pretty rundown and the lawn and flower beds in disrepair. Convincing the elderly widow to allow him to sign a lease for a minor took some doing, but after explaining the kid's ability with lawn work and offering to help pay for the plants for the flower beds the deed was done. Now he just had to convince Johnny to go ask the owner if he could rent an apartment. He never had to know it was just a dummy lease. The real one was already taken care of. On the drive back to the diner he formulated a plan. A phone call to Mrs. Sanders after Johnny went to bed put the plan in place. If the kid ever found out what he'd done he probably would walk away from the whole deal, so Jimbo would have to make sure he never found out.

"Did you get everything you needed?" Rita asked him as he came through the back door seeing he had no bags in his hands.

"Huh?" he looked up with a confused expression. "Oh…uh yeah." He smiled and winked at her. "Where's Johnny?"

"He's cleaning the bathrooms."

Jimbo's eyes widened. "The bathrooms? I only asked him to help with the dishes."

"Well he did that already. We haven't been busy. That boy can't stand still for long. I turned my back for a minute; when I turned around he had a mop and bucket and disappeared into the bathrooms." Rita giggled. "He's really something."

"Yeah he is. He's not like most the seventeen year olds I've met; especially the ones on the street."

"Listen Boss, I gotta go. The boys are expecting me. I'll see you tomorrow." Rita untied her apron and hung it on the wall hook. "I'll just go tell Johnny goodbye."

Another night on the cot left Jimbo sore and his bad knee aching. The other cot was empty when he awoke. Noises in the kitchen drew him, albeit slowly, from his makeshift bed to see what Johnny was up to. When he limped through the door he was surprised to find Johnny at the prep table slicing onions and tomatoes. "What're you doing kid?"

Johnny's eyes shot up in alarm. "I… um, I just thought." He laid down the knife. "I just wanted to help."

"Well don't stop on my account. Looks like you have everything under control. I'll give you a hand as soon as I start some coffee."

"It's already made. Do you want me to get you a cup?" Johnny bounced on the balls of his feet like he was preparing for a race.

Jimbo scratched his head. "Already made?"

"I used to make it for my aunt before going for my morning run when I was on the track team at school. She loved waking up to fresh coffee without having to make it." Johnny smiled, but it faded quickly. He missed his aunt. He thought he would go see her after his black eye healed. "I'll get you a cup. Do you want anything in it? Cream, sugar or both?" Johnny never knew his aunt always made a fresh pot while he was running. He always made it too strong and sometimes it had grounds in it. Poor kid just wanted to please her, but his coffee was terrible. It was no wonder he always said he preferred milk. If he had ever tried his own coffee he would never want to drink the stuff.

"Black." Jimbo eased into a chair and rubbed his knee.

Johnny hurried to get the coffee. "When I used to run track the coach always said to ice swelling. You want me to make you an ice pack?"

"It's an old injury; bothers me sometimes when I don't exercise it enough."

"I kept you from the gym, didn't I?" Johnny looked at his shoes. All of the energy he had a few seconds ago seeped away. "I'm sorry."

Jimbo sighed. Keeping up with Johnny's emotions was like a roller coaster ride. One minute he was up and the next unsure of himself again. "What are you talkin' about? You didn't do anything wrong. Those other kids, yes they did a lot wrong. If anyone is to blame for my knee giving me fits, it's them; not you. Understand?" He reached for his coffee. "Now get back to that prep work and let me have some of this coffee. I'm much easier to get along with after a couple of cups." He sipped and nearly gagged. Not wanting to let on how terrible the coffee tasted he claimed it was hot. "Whoo that's hot. I think I'll just let it cool a little." He sat the offending brew on the work table. "Say Johnny, do you think you could run down to the corner grocery? Mr. Wong is supposed to have a bag of potatoes for me this morning. He was expecting a delivery. We'll need them for dinner tonight."

"Sure I can do that. I'll be right back." Johnny bolted for the door only to stop just before going out. "Um, where is it?"

Jimbo couldn't help but laugh. "It's just down the block on the corner. It's called Wong's Corner Grocery. You can't miss it. Just take a left out of the alley."

Johnny flew out of the door. Jimbo pulled himself up out of the chair and over to the phone. If he didn't hurry Johnny would be at the store before Mr. Wong had a chance to put the sign up. Then he had to make a fresh pot of coffee before Johnny knew he didn't like the first pot. He would have to teach the kid how to do it right.

Johnny jogged to the end of the alley and looked left and right before turning to the left. It felt funny to be outside after being cooped up for two days. It felt good. He thought if Jimbo didn't need him this afternoon he felt good enough to get back to his lawn jobs. Remembering Jimbo's knee left him thinking as he jogged that maybe he should return to the shelter tonight; get out of the way. Before he could dwell on it he was at the store. When he reached for the handle to go in he noticed a "Help Wanted" sign in the window; a smile broke out on his young face.

"Hi, my name is Johnny. Jimbo sent me down to pick up a bag of potatoes."

Mr. Wong smiled at him. "Okay, you wait here. I'll just get it from the back."

"Do you need any help?" Johnny asked honestly.

"No you wait here. I'll be right back."

Johnny bounced on the balls of his feet again. He paced back and forth down the length of the counter. It seemed to take Mr. Wong forever to come back with the potatoes. While he waited he decided to look around some, size the place up. There were only a couple of other customers in the store leaving Johnny to wonder why they needed help. One was a young woman with a baby and the other an elderly woman who seemed to be having trouble reaching some flour on the top shelf. "Excuse me ma'am, can I help you with that?" He stepped up and waited for the okay.

The woman smiled and nodded her head. "Yes please."

Johnny easily pulled down the bag of flour. "Do you need just the one?"

"Yes, just the one. What's your name boy?" Mrs. Sanders asked.

"John, but my friends call me Johnny." He smiled crookedly.

"What happened to your eye?" She asked sympathetically.

"I got mugged. It was really stupid of me. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." He absently rubbed his eye as he spoke.

"Don't rub it," Mrs. Sanders reached for his hand to stop him from rubbing his eye. "It'll take longer to heal if you keep rubbing it. Try to leave it alone." She smiled.

"Yes ma'am, I'll try. Well I better get back up front. I'm here on an errand for my friend. Have a nice day." He turned and disappeared around the row of shelves before she had a chance to say anything. Realizing Jimbo had been right about this kid, she started toward the checkout hoping to catch him before he left.

"Here you go." Mr. Wong handed the heavy bag of potatoes to Johnny who struggled to pick it up. "Can you make it all the way to Jimbo's with it? It's kind of heavy for a skinny boy like you."

Johnny sat the bag on the counter. "Can I ask you about the sign?"

"Sign?" Mr. Wong had almost forgotten his agreement with Jimbo. "Oh yes would you like to apply?"

"What is the job?"

"Bagging groceries, helping people out to their cars with their purchases, cleaning, stocking shelves."

"I could do that. Can I apply?" Johnny was getting excited; it showed in his eyes.

Mr. Wong had already agreed with Jimbo to hire the boy, but after meeting him he knew it was the right thing to do. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out an application. "Do you live nearby?" Mr. Wong could see the immediate change in the boy's eyes. Sadness slipped in.

"I can get here. I'll be on time. I promise."

"Fill this out and bring it back. Right now I think Jimbo needs those potatoes."

"Thank you Mr. Wong." Johnny hoisted the potatoes with a grunt. He was still sore from the attack, but he was determined to show Mr. Wong that he was up for the task.

"Excuse me, Johnny," Mrs. Sanders interrupted. "Could I give you a lift somewhere? I could use some help carrying my groceries into my apartment just down the street. You see I hurt my shoulder the other day trying to trim some hedges and lifting is hard. Then I could give you a ride where ever you need to take that big bag of potatoes."

Mr. Wong had a hard time hiding his smile. Jimbo would be proud of the neighbors for the way they had worked all this out to get Johnny down to the apartments without finding out it was all pre-arranged.

"Sure, I guess that would be okay. I mean, you said just up the street. If we hurry, I think Jimbo wouldn't mind." Johnny sat the bag of potatoes into Mrs. Sanders cart and helped her out to her car. "Do you want them in the trunk?"

"Yes please. Let me give you something for helping me." Mrs. Sanders tried to slip some money into Johnny's hand.

"No thank you. I didn't do it for money." He reached for the potatoes. "Maybe I should just walk back."

"I'm sorry son. I didn't mean to insult you. I tip all baggers at the stores where they help me out with my bags. It's okay to take tips." She tried to give it to him again.

"But I'm not a bagger here. I haven't even applied yet."

"Oh Mr. Wong will hire you. You're a nice boy." She put the money back in her change purse.

"I hope so. I really need the job." Johnny closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's door to open it for Mrs. Sanders; then he jogged around to the passenger side and climbed in. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a run-down apartment complex with overgrown flower beds and high grass. "Mrs. Sanders, I could cut this grass for you, and help with your flower beds. I'm really good at it."

"Where do you live, Johnny? Would it be too far for you to come?"

"Well, if I'm working for Mr. Wong it won't be that far away. I would just have to do it when he doesn't need me…if I get the job." Johnny shrugged.

"You didn't answer my question." Mrs. Sanders crossed her arms and waited. "Where are you living?"

Johnny lowered his eyes to his shoes. He didn't like to lie. It was almost as though he couldn't do it. The few times he had made him feel so bad that it almost made him sick. He raised his gaze back to Mrs. Sanders and told her the truth. "I've been staying at a shelter."

"Well let's get these groceries inside and have a little chat over some lemonade." She opened the trunk and reached for a small bag of vegetables. Johnny grabbed the other bags and followed her to her apartment. "You see I own this building. My husband died a few years back, and I'm here all alone to run things. As you can see there is a lot to be done. I have several men who live here, but none that offer to help me. People are so busy these days. It just so happens I have an empty apartment on the second floor, just above mine. If you helped with the lawn, flower beds and some odd jobs, I could rent it to you for a lot less than I would normally ask."

"You could?" Johnny couldn't believe he ears. "But…but I'm only seventeen."

"Well I own this place, so if I want to rent to a seventeen year old then I guess there is no one here to stop me is there?" She smiled and patted his cheek. "So what do you say?"

Johnny's eyes widened and the crooked grin she had seen earlier at the grocery store returned. "What do I say? Yes! Yes! I say yes!" He grabbed Mrs. Sanders in a hug. "Thank you! You have no idea. This is great!" His words spilled out in rapid fire. "Can I see it? When can I move in? Can I sign the lease? How much will it cost?"

"Slow down," Mrs. Sanders said a bit winded. "I thought you wanted some lemonade."

"Lemonade?" Johnny asked. "Can we just see the apartment? I'm sure Jimbo is wondering where I am. After the mugging, and fire, I'm sure he's worried I've gotten myself into more trouble."

"Nonsense, if he didn't trust you he wouldn't have sent you on an errand now would he?" Mrs. Sanders reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Now let's see. I think it's this one." She moved toward the door. "Well are you coming?"

"Yes ma'am!" Johnny was hot on her heels.

Mrs. Sanders handed him the keys, "Why don't you open her up. She's yours after all."

Johnny's eyes sparkled as he slipped the key into the lock. A place of his own and maybe a new job, things certainly had turned for the better. He opened the door and stood staring into the empty room.

"Well, go on in." Mrs. Sanders gave him a gentle nudge and reached passed him to flip on the light switch. "It's small, but I think you will like it."

Johnny stepped into the room and looked across to the small kitchen. There was a stove and refrigerator. Then he turned to the hall and walked to the bedroom passing the small bath on the way. "It's perfect! I don't have any furniture, but my sleeping bag will be fine for now. Can I sign the lease now?"

"Don't you want to get that job first?" Mrs. Sanders asked knowing full well the first month's rent had already been paid.

"Oh, I have a little savings. I can pay a deposit. I can pay the rent." He stopped in his tracks. "What is the rent?"

"Well, I don't really know what to charge you yet. I tell you what. Why don't I just give you the keys, you look over the yard and flower beds and come up with a price on that; then we can work out a deal. Okay?" She smiled. If he kept up the yard and helped with some minor repairs she might even let him live there for free, but then she remembered Jimbo said Johnny didn't take well to charity. "I'm sure we can come to an amicable agreement."

"Okay, if you're sure." Johnny rubbed his thumb on the keys in his hand. "When can I move in?"

Mrs. Sanders had to laugh. "I thought you didn't have any furniture."

Johnny laughed too. "Yeah, but I got a sleeping bag and a locker at the bus station full of clothes that would be a lot neater hanging in a closet."

"Whenever you're ready. Now if you like, but hadn't we better get those potatoes down to Jimbo's?" She could have kicked herself. Johnny hadn't said the potatoes were for Jimbo.

"How did you know they were for Jimbo?" He asked in a voice laced with suspicion.

She covered quickly, "Well his is the only diner for blocks. Who else would need that big of a bag of potatoes."

"Oh yeah." Johnny shrugged. "I guess we better go." He turned out the lights, closed the door and turned to hand the keys back to Mrs. Sanders.

"No, those are yours now." She smiled and pushed his hand away. "I have another set I keep."

Johnny stopped and looked back at the door. "What about the utilities. I'll have to have them in my name, but I'm not old enough."

"How about until you're eighteen I will just keep them in my name? You can pay me when you pay the rent." She patted him on the shoulder. "I know this is a big step for such a young man, but I think things will work out nicely for both of us. It's been a long time since I had a tenant that I knew would help me when I need it. I think it would be nice if you joined me for dinner on occasion too. I love to cook and most of the time, have more than enough. I get tired of eating the same thing night after night, and my freezer is only so big.

In answer to that comment Johnny's stomach growled, and they both laughed.

"Let's get you back to that diner. I think I may have to get something to eat myself." Mrs. Sanders led the way to her car.

"Thank you." Johnny said sincerely as he pulled the bag of potatoes from her trunk. "I guess I'll bring my things tonight if that's okay. I mean we haven't signed the lease or anything yet."

"Don't worry about that. We'll have plenty of time for that over dinner tomorrow night." She smiled. "Okay?"

Johnny smiled and hoisted the bag of potatoes as if it were feather light. "Okay. Good bye Mrs. Sanders." He turned and disappeared into the diner.

"Well here you are." Rita teased. "Jimbo's been pacing like an expectant father. What took you so long?" Jimbo had filled Rita in on his plan and after seeing Mrs. Sanders drop Johnny off at the door she suspected things had worked out beautifully.

"Hey Jimbo!" Johnny called as he burst through the kitchen door. "You won't believe what happened!"

Jimbo schooled his face and turned to face Johnny. "What now?" He reached for the potatoes. "Are you hurt?"

"What? No! I got a job; well I think I may have a job at Mr. Wong's, bagging groceries. I mean I have to apply, but he seemed to like me. And there was this lady there, Mrs. Sanders; she owns an apartment building down the street. She's lonely since her husband died a few years ago. Man you should see her lawn, and those flower beds. My work is really going to be cut out for me on those. Anyway, she wants me to rent an apartment! Can you believe it? A job…well maybe a job, but a place of my own to live in, and she didn't even care that I'm not eighteen. She said it was her building and there was no one to tell her she couldn't rent it to me." He turned around and took a few steps before turning back around. "She's even going to help me with the electric since I can't get them myself yet. Can you believe it? I mean yesterday and the day before things were a mess, and now." He stopped talking, ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Jimbo. "I didn't even stop to think. Maybe you need me to work here until I pay you back for all the food. I'll just tell her I can't move in. Mr. Wong can find someone else. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." His shoulders sagged.

"What, wait, slow down, a job, an apartment! That's great! And remember we agreed that you would let me help you no strings attached. That's what friends do…remember."

"You mean you're not mad?" Johnny smiled.

"Why would I be mad?" Jimbo pulled Johnny into a shoulder hug. "This calls for a real celebration. How does a steak sound?" Johnny's stomach growled in answer. "Didn't you eat something this morning?"

Johnny blushed.

"Kid you gotta eat." Jimbo reached for a round of hamburger and patted it flat. "I'll have this ready in a few minutes. Rita, get the kid some milk!"

"I can get it." Johnny started, but before he could finish Rita was beside him with a tall glass of milk and three cookies. "Thanks," he said as he bit off of one.

"Congratulations on your job and apartment." Rita said. "I heard you telling Jimbo." She pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head. She didn't think she'd ever met a more deserving young man. "We'll miss you around here though."

"I'll be around." Johnny promised.

"Okay kid, here's your burger. Eat up, and then we have some planning to do. If you're going to have a place of your own you'll need some furniture, a bed and stuff."

"All I need is my sleeping bag. I'll get the rest when I can. If it's okay with you I'll run over to the bus station to get my things from my locker there. I told Mrs. Sanders I was movin' in tonight." He smiled around a large bite of burger.


	19. Chapter 19

Jimbo and Rita watched as Johnny inhaled his burger barely taking the time to wash it down with milk and talking nonstop the whole time. “I need to go to the bank and take out enough money for the deposit.” He suddenly stopped chewing. He looked up at his new friends with wide eyes. “She never told me how much. I don’t even know how much deposit on an apartment is. Do you know how much that is?” He looked at Jimbo who opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Johnny. “Oh well it doesn’t really matter. I’ll just take out a lot.” He shoved the last bite into his mouth. “Man, it sure will be good not to have to go to the shelt…” Johnny suddenly realized he had almost admitted to sleeping at a shelter. He chewed slowly, swallowed and took a sip of milk before looking up. 

Jimbo knew what Johnny had been about to say, but he wouldn’t press him to open up. He wanted Johnny to keep the good feeling he had since coming back from the grocery. “No worries kid. Let’s just concentrate on the good things. We’ve had enough bad in the past two days to last a long time. Don’t you think?”

Johnny looked down at the now empty plate, thought about it for a few seconds and looked up with a grin on his face. “I can’t believe it, a place of my own, a job...” His eyes widened, and he jumped up from his seat; turning this way and that; panic shown in his eyes. “The application, I don’t know what happened to it!” He walked over to the counter. It wasn’t there. He practically ran into the kitchen and burst back through the door seconds later. “What am I going to do? I have to fill it out. I wonder if I left it at my apartment.” He ran his hand through his hair leaving it standing up. He turned and walked back into the kitchen returning again before the door had a chance to close. “I can’t believe this.”

Rita and Jimbo stood watching the bundle of energy as he paced frantically. All signs of his having been mugged or still suffered from a bad cold seemed to have disappeared until without thinking Johnny turned and coughed into his shirt sleeve. Jimbo whistled at the kid. “Hey!”

Johnny stopped in his tracks and stared like a deer in headlights.

“It’s right here.” Jimbo pointed to the paper on the bench seat of the booth Johnny had been eating at. Both Rita and Jimbo burst out laughing. 

Johnny ducked his head and smiled slightly. He shuffled over to the booth and picked up the application. “Thanks.”

“Well, I have some potatoes to peel.” Jimbo grabbed the plate and empty glass and headed to the kitchen. “Rita, don’t you have some work to do?”

“Uh…yeah boss…coming.” Rita winked at Johnny as she handed him her pen. 

When Jimbo finally let Johnny leave after an after lunch snack of apple pie, a vanilla shake and a promise to return for that steak dinner at 6, he couldn’t decide what to do first. He needed to drop off his completed application to Mr. Wong. He knew he needed to check on the lawns he’d been supposed to tend. Thankfully, it had rained; he hoped his customers hadn’t made other arrangements. Now that he had an apartment he would have bills to pay; he needed all the money he could earn. He wanted to stop by the shelter before everyone was admitted for the night so he could let Gus and Bobby know he was okay. The two older men had looked after him for a while now; always saving him a place in line and making sure none of the bigger guys messed with him. He needed to get his things from the bus station and hopefully make it back to his new apartment before dark. He didn’t want to come in late and wake his new landlord. That thought brought a crooked grin to his face. ‘His apartment’ had a nice ring to it. With that idea he picked up his pace. He had a lot to do before going…home.

“I’m going to miss having Johnny around to help.” Rita smiled as she and Jimbo stood on the sidewalk in front of the diner watching as Johnny hurried away.

Jimbo rubbed his shoulder, “Yeah, but I’m gonna enjoy being back home in my own bed.”

“What’s the matter boss? Getting too old to sleep on a cot?” Rita teased.

Jimbo chuckled. He turned and held the door open for Rita. “I’ve been too old for a long time, but that kid’s worth it. He’s going to make a great firefighter someday. Too bad he didn’t want to be a cop. The department could really use more people like him.”

“Forget it, Jimbo. You’ll never get him to change his mind.” Rita patted her boss on the shoulder as she passed. “I wonder when we’ll see him again.”

Jimbo hesitated before following Rita. “I don’t know.” He said softly as he watched Johnny turn the corner at the end of the block. 

Johnny’s first stop was Mr. Wong’s grocery to drop off his application. He’d only planned to stay for a minute, because he had several stops to make. When he got to the store his earlier impression of the store not being busy enough to need help was quickly erased. There was a line at the checkout. The cashier was trying to check the customers out, take their money and bag their groceries by herself. Mr. Wong was hurrying down an isle to help a customer. Johnny stood by the door for a few minutes wondering if he should come back later. Instead he folded the application and slid it into his pocket. Then he walked over to the checkout and began bagging groceries. 

“Excuse me,” the cashier looked at him questioningly. “What are you doing?”

Johnny looked up at her and smiled, “I’m bagging these groceries.”

“Well I can see that, but why?”

“I was waiting to give my application to Mr. Wong. I thought I would help you while I waited. He’s kind of busy right now. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

A rough looking man near the back of the line spoke up, “Just let the kid bag already. I’m in a hurry.”

The cashier looked at the line and back at Johnny; then she started checking again, “I guess it would be okay.”

Mr. Wong was headed back to the front of the store to help get the line down when he saw Johnny helping. He stopped and watched for a moment before continuing to the register. Even thought it had been Jimbo’s idea to give Johnny a job, Mr. Wong was pleased with what he saw. The last customer in the line was in the process of paying when he walked up. “Hi, Johnny.”

“Oh…uh, I hope it’s okay…I mean, I just thought… she…” He waved his hand toward the cashier. “She needed some help. I was just standing there.” He pointed by the door. “I…um, I thought I would help…you know…while I waited.” He reached for the folded application. “I brought you this.” He handed it to Mr. Wong. “It’s my application.”

Mr. Wong opened the paper and smiled. “When can you start?”

“Start?” Johnny looked confused. “OH!” He smiled, and then tilted he head looking suspiciously at Mr. Wong. “You don’t need to interview me? Ask me a few questions? See if I’m qualified?”

Mr. Wong hesitated for a few seconds, thoughts running fast through his mind. Had he tipped Johnny off? Did the boy suspect something? Jimbo would not be happy with him if he messed this up. “No, you just showed me everything I need to know. You didn’t wait to be told what to do. You saw a need and stepped in just like you did this morning with Mrs. Sanders. You brought the application back completed as I asked. Unless you will have a problem getting to work or can’t work the schedule I ask you to, then the job is yours. It doesn’t pay that much, and it’s part time, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“If I…Yes! I want it!” Johnny was bouncing on his feet and grinning from ear to ear. “I can start tomorrow. I’m renting an apartment from Mrs. Sanders. We talked about it this morning. I’m moving in today, so getting here will not be a problem. It’s just down the street.”

“Okay then, how about you start tomorrow morning at 7. I have a delivery coming in. You can help me unload the truck and stock the shelves.” Mr. Wong reached out his hand to shake Johnny’s.  
“Yes sir. I’ll be here.” Johnny smiled shaking the man’s hand.

The cashier smiled too. “Welcome aboard. I’m Angie.” She waved before helping another customer.

“Hi Angie. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks Mr. Wong. Thanks a lot.” Johnny waved as he headed out of the store. He looked up at the sky and realized he’d really have to hurry to get everything done now. He wondered if he should call Jimbo and tell him not to worry about the steak dinner. It would be hard to get back by 6, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to let Jimbo down. He’d been so nice letting him crash at the diner.

On the way to the bus station Johnny took a slight detour to check on one of his lawns. He had been supposed to cut it the day after he was mugged, and he wanted to be sure it was still waiting on him. He would have to schedule to do the work tomorrow afternoon if it was okay. As he approached the yard he could tell it hadn’t been cut. He went up to the door and knocked. He looked around while he waited. The sound of the door drew him back. “Hi Miss Betty. I just wanted to check with you to be sure it’s okay for me to cut your yard tomorrow afternoon when I get off from work.”

“What happened to your eye?” Betty asked with concern.

“My eye?” Johnny had almost forgotten about his black eye. “Oh my eye. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Let me take a look at it.” Betty reached up to palpate the area around Johnny’s eye. He stepped back trying to avoid her touch. “It’s okay, Johnny, I’m a nurse. I just want to make sure there are no broken bones.” 

“I didn’t know you were a nurse.” Johnny said while turning to cough into his shoulder.

“Yes, I work at Rampart Hospital. That’s a nasty cough you have too.” She felt around his eye and felt his head for a fever. “I don’t think anything is broken, and you don’t seem to have a fever.” She smiled. “I think you’ll live, but you should try not to get into fights.”

Johnny looked down at his feet. “They fought me. I was mugged.”

“Oh my. Did they hurt you anywhere else?” 

“I’m okay. Um, about the yard?” Johnny asked nervously. “Is it okay if I cut it tomorrow?”

“Of course it is.” Betty smiled. “It’s been too wet; tomorrow is fine.”

“Thanks Miss Betty. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Johnny waved as he turned and started down her walk.

“Johnny,” Betty called to him. “If you need help; medical attention. You can find me at Rampart. I work in the emergency room. You be careful. Okay?”  
“Yes ma’am.” He waved.

Betty watched him walk down the sidewalk. She couldn’t help the smile that spread. Her yard hadn’t looked better in a long time. When he had originally knocked on her door asking if she needed someone to do her yard work, she’d doubted his ability. He was so skinny, but he’d proved her wrong. When she couldn’t see him any longer, she turned and closed the door.

Nothing seemed to be going the way Johnny had expected. It was taking a lot longer than he had planned for each stop on his journey. If he didn’t hurry he would miss seeing the guys at the shelter. He still had to get his things from the bus station and stop at the bank. He picked up his pace.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Johnny hurried to his next destination. At the bus station he gathered his things from his locker. He didn’t have much. He’d left some of his things at Jimbo’s to pick up later. The rest he could easily roll into his sleeping bag, a few clothes, a blanket and pillow. The camping lantern he would just carry. Once he had it all arranged he tucked the rolled bundle under his arm and set out to the shelter hoping he would get there before his friends were let inside. 

By the time Johnny rounded the corner at the end of the block, the doors had already been opened. He couldn’t help but think that maybe he should have come there first. Men and boys had already begun to inch forward hoping to pass through the doors for a hot meal and place to sleep. Johnny started walking faster. If his friends were near the back of the line he might still get to see them. When he became even with the door, some of the people in line thought he was trying to cut ahead of them. One even pushed him making him stumble. His bundle of sleeping bag and clothes slipped a little, but he managed to hang onto it. “Hey, you gotta go to the back of the line,” the man snarled. Johnny knew better than to try to make the man understand. You couldn’t reason with a homeless man who thinks you are trying to get between him and food. Johnny directed his eyes toward the sidewalk and just kept moving away, but the man’s loud accusation had alerted the others to him making them think he was there to try to get in before they did. The shelter had limited space. He’d been left on the sidewalk before when the number allowed inside had been reached. It was not a good feeling especially to a young man with a high metabolism and nothing to eat. Wary of the angry eyes that looked at him as he walked down the sidewalk, Johnny stepped to the very edge just before the curb met the road. His friends were nowhere to be seen. He soon reached the end of the line and had to guess they were already inside. He got a better grip on the bundle under his arm before turning to make his way back to Jimbo’s or to his new apartment, if he had time. He’d promised Jimbo he’d be back in time for dinner, but he really hoped to drop off his things first. 

The sun was already sinking lower in the sky, and Johnny still had several blocks to go when he heard sirens in the distance. He stopped on the sidewalk to listen. They sounded close. He couldn’t tell if they were the police or the fire department, but he thought they sounded like a fire truck. He scanned the skyline for smoke and saw some drifting up from a building not too far away. He hurried towards the rising smoke. As he jogged down the street the fire truck rumbled past. He could feel the wind left as the truck sped by. The excitement he felt at getting to see the firefighters at work filled his belly as he picked up his pace. There were several trucks parked around an office building. Men ran all over, pulling hoses from the backs of trucks and hooking them up to the hydrants. Before long, water sprayed from the hoses snuffing out the flames that tried to escape through the windows. 

Johnny ran right up beside one of the trucks to watch. 

Time stood still as Johnny watched the calculated moves, the crisscrossing of the spray from the hoses and the hands on the shoulders that supported the men on the front lines. His eyes moved from side to side. He spun on his heels and craned his neck around the truck trying to see as much as he could. It was like watching a well choreographed musical production to the tune of gallons and gallons of water. Red lights flashed against the shattered remains of windows like stage lights illuminating the scene with an eerie red glow and reflected off the water that rippled with each step the firefighters took. Smoke slithered from cracks in the walls as the fire breathed new life while reaching upward to consume the floors above. 

A man with a white stripe on his helmet pointed and directed. He spoke into a radio while he seemed to be surveying the entire operation from his vantage point. One man stood by each fire engine turning dials and checking gauges, but they watched too. These men with the white stripes and by the engines seemed to be watching everything at the same time. All of a sudden it seemed that everyone’s eyes turned to the same thing; Johnny’s followed. At the front entrance to the building, two firefighters were coming out with something draped over their shoulders. Johnny squinted through the haze of smoke, water and ash trying to make out what it was they carried. As they drew closer to the row of engines, he could see that they carried people. He instinctively stepped a few steps forward before stopping again. The firefighters lowered the people to a yellow blanket that the man by one of the trucks had spread on the ground. Green cases soon landed beside the group of people. The firefighters flipped the latches on the cases and threw then open. They pulled what Johnny recognized as oxygen masks out and placed them over the people’s faces. One of the people on the yellow blankets began coughing as soon as the oxygen mask was placed over his face. The other one took longer, but eventually they too were coughing. Johnny heard one of the firefighters telling the man with the white striped helmet that the people were going to be okay. After that all eyes turned back to the fire.

Johnny stayed there watching longer than he should have. Before he realized it the sun was going down. The fire crews were packing up their hoses and gear. He started away from the scene when one of the men put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Hey son, it’s late. It isn’t safe to be out on these streets after dark, even for a teenager like yourself.” Johnny turned to face the man, but didn’t look up. “Do you live nearby?”

“No sir.” Johnny answered honestly. “I was just going there when I saw the fire. It’s not that far.” He stepped away from the man’s grip on his shoulder and turned to leave.

“How ‘bout we give you a lift?” 

Johnny’s eyes shot up to look into the man’s eyes. “On that?” He pointed to the fire engine.

The man smiled broadly, “Well, it’s the only ride I have. So, how ‘bout it?”

“Sure, yeah, good deal.” Johnny bounced on his toes with excitement. “I…uh I was going to Jimbo’s diner. I was supposed to be there before now, but I still gotta go.”

“Jimbo’s huh? Okay, I know the place. You ride up here in the middle. I’ll just stow your stuff down here.” He reached for Johnny’s bundle and put them in a compartment on the side of the engine. Johnny climbed up into the cab and took the seat in the middle. When the man climbed up and took the seat beside him, Johnny noticed the white stripe on his helmet. “Okay, Mike, take us by Jimbo’s diner on the way back to the house.”

“Yes sir,” the man at the wheel said, and then, he winked at Johnny before pulling the engine away from the scene. 

Johnny could not believe he was riding in a fire engine. It was a short ride, just a few blocks, but it was enough to make Johnny even surer of his career choice. When he pulled up in front of Jimbo’s and climbed down from the cab, Jimbo was standing on the sidewalk with worry written all over his face. “What have you gotten into this time?”

“He was watching us at a scene. I think time got away from him. Is he your son? I didn’t know you had any kids.” The captain stepped down from the cab first and shook hands with Jimbo.  
“No, I don’t. He’s a friend.” Jimbo looked back over at Johnny, whose head was ducked in embarrassment. “And, he’s late for dinner. Thanks for bringing him guys.”

“No problem, Jimbo. When he told us where he was going, we thought dinner here might be quicker than cooking at the station.” The man who had been driving said as he opened the door and held it for everyone to enter. “Right, Cap?” He teased his superior knowing that stopping to eat had never been discussed, but also that his captain was a fair man and always ready for a good meal especially when one certain member of his crew was scheduled to cook. 

“Right!” the captain smiled as he patted his engineer on the shoulder while passing him on the way into the diner. “Let’s eat fellas.”

Jimbo smiled and laughed at the antics of the crew. “Well, come on, Johnny. You can help me feed this hungry brood.” He ruffled Johnny’s hair making him duck again. 

Johnny followed the men into the diner and noticed that his things had been retrieved from the compartment on the engine and deposited on the counter near the kitchen door. He moved them to put them into the office out of the way. When he opened the office door, he noticed that the cots were folded and his few things were folded and stacked on the corner of the desk. He was glad to know that Jimbo would be able to return home to his own bed.

“I’ll give you a ride to your apartment after everyone is fed and the diner closed, okay?”

“I can walk” Johnny looked Jimbo directly in the eyes this time. 

“I know, but I’ll give you a ride.” Jimbo was not going to take no for an answer. Johnny smiled already knowing the stubborn look on Jimbo’s face and nodded in agreement. “Okay, let’s get this party started.” Jimbo turned and left the kitchen to take the food orders from the group of hungry firemen while Johnny washed up to help. “Can you get the drinks?” he asked as he disappeared through the doors to the dining area.

Johnny sat with the firefighters to eat his promised steak. He reveled at the stories they told of heroism and skill. He laughed at the funny tales they told of pranks and crazy rescues. His eyes widened at some of the injuries they described. Jimbo joined in and shared some stories of his days on the police force. Johnny marveled at the man he now called friend. These were the kind of people he wanted to align himself with, people who wanted to help others, people who were born to serve; people who faced fear and lived to tell about it. He felt a kinship he’d never felt before. The evening ended when the fire company was called to another fire. After helping Jimbo clear away all the dishes and secure the diner for the night, Johnny was glad he’d agreed to let Jimbo take him to his new apartment. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here tonight? You want to go back for one of my cots?” Jimbo could have kicked himself for forgetting that Johnny didn’t have any furniture. He’d been so busy arranging the job and apartment, he didn’t even think about the fact that the kid didn’t have a bed.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Johnny sat his things down on the balcony that stretched across the length of the building in front of the second-floor apartments. He fished in his pocket for the key his new landlady had given him earlier that day. He smiled as the light from the streetlamp glinted on the shiny new key. He liked the way it felt in the palm of his hand. It was his first apartment, the key to his future. He slipped the key into the lock with ease, turning it slowly until he heard the click. Then he rubbed his hands on his pants. Nerves and excitement were making his palms sweat. Reaching out slowly, He gripped the door knob in his hand and gradually turned until the door opened. The room was dark, but light shown through the sheer curtains on the large window to his left, casting a glow into the empty space. Not wanting to call attention to himself in case anyone was watching, he just looked in the door without turning on the interior light. Across the room he could see the kitchenette area and the darker hallway to the bedroom. He stood there outside on the balcony for a few minutes just taking in the feeling of his first time opening the door to his new home. It felt really good. 

Looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, he giggled at himself. He knew he was being silly. It was just an apartment. Lots of people lived in apartments. He shook his head at his silliness and bent to grab his things, moving them inside the door. Then he stood tall, took a deep breath and stepped into the room. No matter how inane someone else might think he was being, Johnny just couldn’t help himself. A crooked grin spread across his face, he threw his head back and spoke loudly to the empty room, “hello, I’m home!” Then he stepped further inside, turned, peeked out the door to be sure no one had come out of their apartments at the noise, and softly closed the door.

It wasn’t until the door was completely shut and the deadbolt and chain slid into place that Johnny reached over and flipped on the switch that turned on the lights. He looked over at the sheer curtains and decided the first thing he would do is put up something that would keep others from seeing inside. There was an extra curtain rod that must have once had a curtain on it. He knew his aunt had used two curtains like that. One that was kind of see through for when you wanted sunlight, but privacy and the other for blocking out the sun or nosy neighbors. He could use his blanket, but he needed that to keep warm until he could get a proper bed. He reached up to the wall switch and turned it back off. 

Then he picked up his bed roll and made his way down the short hall to the bedroom. It was dark. The curtain in that room was heavy and blocked any light from outside from coming in. He felt around on the wall for the light switch he knew would be there. Light filled the room from the fixture in the center of the ceiling and the fan attached began to slowly turn. It made a soft whirring noise. Two chains hung from the center that he knew would operate the fan or turn out the light if he wanted the fan to keep spinning. He dropped his bedroll in the center of the room and tugged at the chains, experimenting with them to see what setting he wanted. Then he just stood under the fan and let it blow down on his face making his hair move from the wind. Giggling again he reached up and pulled the cord to turn it to a slower setting. The last thing he needed was to get sick from too much air blowing down on him while he slept. 

He unrolled his sleeping bag and spread it in the center of the floor under the fan. Then he spread the blanket on top and placed the pillow at the end that was open for him to slip inside if it got too cold. Stepping back and admiring his handiwork, Johnny then turned and went back into the main room to get his clothes. He would put them on the shelf in the closet if there were no hangers. Luckily when he opened the closet door there were several wire hangers like the cleaners used. He hung his best shirt and slacks on them and folded the other few things stacking them on the shelf. He put his good shoes and the camping lantern on the floor and kicked off his sneakers, arranging them beside the others. Next, he put his towel and wash rag in the small bathroom in the hall and slid his toothbrush into the ceramic holder that hung from the wall. He carefully removed the paper towels from the bar of soap he had been using to clean up and placed it on the soap dish in the shower. He would have to get a shower curtain, but until then he could take a bath. He then placed his shaving things, toothpaste, and comb in the drawer beneath the sink, stepped back and smiled at his reflection in the medicine cabinet over the sink. Reaching up he pulled open the front and placed his bottle of aspirin on the glass shelf inside and snapped the door back shut. 

The last things to put away were the few things he had to cook with. He’d used them over camp fires, but they were all he had, so he stored them in the kitchen cabinet, rinsed the one cup he had and filled it with water. Moving in had made him thirsty. He drank a full cup, filled it again and moved to put it in the refrigerator. When he opened the refrigerator door the inside had two shelves and two big drawers at the bottom and several rows of small shelves on the inside of the door. It wasn’t a big refrigerator, but it was shiny and clean. Johnny put his cup in the middle of the top shelf and closed the door. Soon the water would be good and cold to drink, but for now he needed to wash up, brush his teeth, and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, he had to start his new job at the grocery store. He double checked the locks on the door, turned around and looked at the room again. He felt a strong sense of accomplishment. In the past few days, Johnny had made some new friends, found a job, and moved into his new home. It had been a long time since things had been good for the young man, but now he had a renewed hope for the future.


End file.
